This lone star state was created as the result of the dedication of some of the most courageous people ever to settle  in the United States of America. One such pioneer was Samuel Wheat Bishop. His amazing story is eloquently told by his son James J. Bishop in his last work entitled "Memoirs and Miracles". James J. Bishop completed this work in 1956 at the age of 90.

Mr. Bishop was the Author of the book entitled "The Rise and Fall of Sparta". He also wrote the Clements Family History. 

Samuel Wheat Bishop is the younger brother to my ggggrandmother Elizabeth Ann (Bishop) Carter. His father, Joseph Bishop my gggggrandfather.

I wish to thank Samuel Worth Bishop Jr., the great grandson of James J Bishop, for transcribing this manuscript and allowing me to publish it on this web page. Jim Hewitt

 

Samuel Wheat Bishop & Brother in Law Adam Quincy Clements

Photo courtesy Samuel Worth Bishop

 Preface

The life of Samuel W. Bishop and the deeds he performed were closely linked with the early history of Texas. Many of his experiences were so thrilling that it would be a loss to posterity were they to be unrecorded. Therefore, I have yielded to numerous requests from his relatives and friends to reproduce in writing such of his experiences as I can recall from memory.

I shall endeavor to write these stories of his early life as he related them to me on many occasions. The story of his later life will be reflected from my personal knowledge of him.

He was brought to Texas in 1838 at the age of six years. He was nine years old and living in Texas when the telegraph was invented. At that time the man on a horse was the swiftest messenger. Sam lived in Texas many years before a mile of railroad was built in the state, when the ox team was the best means of transportation. Texas at that time was truly a wide open space filled with all its beauty of trees and flowers and grass. Upon its broad prairies roamed, at will, thousands of deer, wild cattle, mustang horses, antelope, buffalo and many ferocious wild animals.

Into this wild, unsettled, uncivilized vast territory called Texas, Sam was brought when a child to grow up and take his place in life the best he could.

Dedication

I dedicate this production to the memory of my beloved father, Samuel W. Bishop, to his descendants and his pioneer friends and relatives, also to the lovers of the romance of the early cattle industry in Texas.

I know that school children everywhere will be thrilled to read this true story of a pioneer Texan whose experiences covered a period in Texas of eighty-one years, from 1838 to 1919.

Preview

In order to acquaint the reader with the perilous conditions that confronted Sam when he was brought into Texas in 1838 - a child of six years of age - I give you the following historical facts.

Mexico, including Texas, had long been a province of Spain. In 1822 Mexico severed her relations with Spain and became an independent Republic. Soon after Mexico won her liberty she made a deal with Moses Austin to settle three hundred American colonists in Texas, giving them vast acres of land.

Moses Austin died before filling his contract with Mexico, and on his death bed requested his son, Stephen F. Austin, to take over the deal and complete the contract, which Stephen did. Several other persons obtained similar contracts with Mexico. This colonization period began in 1822 and lasted until 1830. By that time about 40,000 Americans had become residents of Texas, but citizens of Mexico.

A breach between Mexico and her American colonists began in 1830 which led to war between them. Actual fighting began in 1835 and lasted until April 21, 1836. On that date the colonists, led by Gen. Sam Houston with 900 soldiers, met Gen. Santa Anna in battle with 3,000 Mexican soldiers. One of the most noted battles of all time took place - the Battle of San Jacinto. The Mexican army was practically all killed, wounded or captured.  Santa Anna himself was captured. While in captivity, Santa Anna ceded Texas to the colonists, and the colonists proceeded at once to organize a new nation, calling it The Republic of Texas. That was in 1836.

SOME HIGHLIGHTS

Father and son - one hundred nineteen years in Texas - 1838 to 1957.  Together they lived in Texas under the administration of every President of The Republic of Texas and every Governor of the State.

Father was living in Texas three years before the telegraph was invented and before a mile of railroad was built in the state. Father drove a herd of 900 longhorn Texas steers from Central Texas to Chicago in 1857 - a feat performed nine years before the famous Chisholm trail was blazed.

Father served a hectic four years in the Confederate army of the Civil War. He saw service from the prison walls of Columbus, Ohio for five months to the last battle of the Civil War at Brownsville, Texas in 1865.

This is the country that Joseph Bishop brought his family in 1838, when his son, Sam, was six years of age.

For many succeeding years this young republic was harassed by Mexican raids and by Indian depredations

PART I

Part one of this book deals with Sam’s residence in this new country for 81 years - 1838 to 1919. At first there were no schools, no churches and no civilization. Sam lived through political turmoil and confusion and observed the progress and development of Texas from its humble beginning to a high plane of civilization.

Sam Comes to Texas

Samuel W. Bishop was born April 24th, 1832, in the state of Tennessee.  His father, Joseph Bishop, a Baptist preacher, was a great admirer of Pres. Jackson and of Sam Houston, both of whom achieved political distinction in their native state of Tennessee.

Jackson became President of the United States and Sam Houston became congressman from Tennessee and later Governor of the state. Subsequently, Houston became interested in Texas’ revolution against Mexico and was named Commander-in-Chief of the Texas army. Under his leadership, Texas won her independence and a new nation came into existence - “The Republic of Texas.” Houston served as its first president for two years and as its third president for three years.

When Texas became one of the United States in 1845, Sam Houston was elected its first U. S. senator and later served Texas as Governor.  No man in this country has had a more turbulent, thrilling and successful career than Sam Houston.

Early in 1835, while the revolution between Texas and Mexico was at its height, Joseph Bishop decided to move to Texas and cast his fate with the Texans, then being led by Sam Houston in a war against Mexico which began in 1835 and ended with the Battle of San Jacinto, April 21st, 1836.

With Joseph Bishop as leader, some twelve to fifteen other families loaded their belongings into ox drawn wagons and departed from eastern Tennessee for Texas. When they reached the Red River, the border between Arkansas and Texas, they found not only the war with Mexico at its height, but also savage Indians were on a rampage in Texas. He and his traveling associates deemed it unsafe for the lives of their families to cross the Red River under these prevailing conditions, so they remained in Arkansas for three years.

Selects Head-right

Maribeau B. Lamar was elected President of the new Republic of Texas in 1838, and in his first message to congress, he recommended that a head-right of land, consisting of 640 acres, be offered to the heads of families who would come to Texas and live on the land. Texas’ congress enacted the law and when word reached Joseph Bishop and his waiting caravan on the east side of the Red River, they yoked their oxen, loaded their families, cooking utensils and household goods in their creaking wagons and crossed the Red River into Texas, near the present town of Paris. That was in the summer of 1838.

Each family proceeded to hunt for a suitable location for his head-right on which to establish a home. The whole country was open for settlers to occupy, yet it took time to select suitable land. These people were looking for home sites with timber, water and grass:  timber for firewood and protection to their stock in the winter; water for domestic purposes and especially for stock; and grass for cattle and horses the year ‘round.

Late in 1838 or early in 1839, Joseph Bishop selected his homestead in Hopkins County, near the present town of Sulphur Springs, then called Black Jack Grove. He did not live there long until continuous raids of thieving and murderous Indians, together with depredations by white men who were outlaws, became so prevalent that he concluded neither his family nor his property was safe. So, of necessity, he retreated to the east and acquired a temporary home in Titus County on the Red River, where he remained for two years.

During his residence in Titus County in 1839 and 1840, he arranged to preach on Sundays in several different communities. He always walked to his preaching appointments, though he had forty head of horses.  On one occasion, when the eleven o'clock hour came for the sermon, an number of pioneer families had assembled at the appointed place to hear the frontier preacher, but the preacher did not appear. The congregation patiently cast their eyes on the road over which he was expected to travel, but no preacher was to be seen. The crowd wondered what was wrong and many suggestions were made as to the cause of the delay. Knowing the country was infested with savage Indians and ferocious wild animals, they feared he had met with foul play from one of these sources.

At last, in the distance, they discovered a man walking in the direction of the crowd. It proved to be the preacher who was now one hour late.  Everyone was eager to find out what had detained him. He calmly apologized by stating that a bear had put him up a tree and stood by for nearly an hour, daring him to come down from his hastily procured perch.

Back Home

In the spring of 1841 he moved back to his homestead in Hopkins County.  A number of new families had moved into the neighborhood by this time and Indians were not so troublesome. Life and property seemed much safer than it did two years before when he was forced to retreat east.

Cattle rustling and horse stealing were the greatest menace to the citizenry of the frontier country at this time. May white men were thieves as well as all the Indians. There were no laws, no courts of justice, and no sheriffs to catch thieves and bring them to trial for punishment for their infringement upon the rights of good citizens.  Consequently, the citizens banded together to protect their property and their families. Each good citizen was on the lookout for thieves and outlaws. Each newcomer into the community was closely scrutinized and his demeanor carefully watched for days, weeks and months to ascertain his attitude as to honesty and good citizenship.

When a suspected thief was caught, the citizens of the community would come together, elect a foreman or judge, select a jury and hear the testimony, and then mete out justice as they saw it.

Sam at this time, (1841) was only nine years of age but he was permitted to witness a scene at Blackjack Grove that no boy of that tender age should ever be permitted to look upon. The citizens had caught a horse thief and proceeded to give him a trial before a jury of their own choice. The jury found him guilty and decreed that he should be hung.  A rope was placed around his neck; he was then forced to mount a horse and ride under a large limb of a tree. The rope was tied to the limb and the horse, when lashed, jumped from under the thief, leaving his body dangling in the air, his neck broken.

Such a deed as this, committed by good men, is barbarous, inhuman, and unjustifiable in this generation, but environment and conditions were such at that time that the people had to take the law into their own hands if they expected Texas to be settled by civilized people.  Conditions remained this way, to some extent, in many parts of Texas until long after the Civil War.

When Sam was twelve years of age he had never entered the door of a school room. There were no public schools in Texas at that time and but few private schools. A log house about sixteen feet square was erected in the community for a school house. A teacher was employed and each pupil had to pay tuition. Since there was practically no money in the country, the teacher was paid mostly by barter. Cows, yearlings, ponies, oxen, hobbles and rawhide lariats were the principal items with which to pay the teacher. However, it was understood that the teacher would go home with the children at night and thus have his board and lodging free.

Under these conditions Sam started to school to learn the three “R’s”:  Reading, ‘Riting and ‘Rithmetic. After three long tiresome days in the schoolroom, Sam, like General Sam Houston, decided he had rather chase mustangs or corral cattle that go to school, so these three brief days ended his schoolroom education. However, he later learned to write a good hand, to spell better than the average person, and to make any mathematical calculation pertaining to practical business. He read books and newspapers as long as he lived. He loved to read and kept well posted on county, state and national affairs.

In this connection I wish to state that Sam told me that while they were living in Titus County in 1841 a man named McKinsey established a high school in the adjoining county of Lamar. It was called McKinsey College and was the first college established in the Republic of Texas.  It was a success. I will have more to say about McKinsey College later in my story.

Joseph Bishop remained on his head-right in Hopkins County until 1846 when he decided to hunt greener pastures and more agreeable environment.  He traded his six hundred forty acres of land for an ox wagon and two yoke of steers. A caravan of twelve or fifteen families gathered their possessions and started south with him. Each family had an ox wagon, some had one yoke of oxen, others two or more. Most of them had a few cows and horses. They were all thrown together and some of the men would drive the oxen drawing the wagons while others drove the cattle and horses. Joseph Bishop had forty horses in the herd and a few cattle.

They were now off for the south, moving at the rate of fifteen miles per day when traveling conditions were favorable. Many were the obstacles encountered in traveling across Texas in this manner in those early days. There were practically no roads, so horsemen rode ahead to select the best way to cross rivers, creeks and ravines. No bridges spanned even the larger streams, and it was certainly a daring feat to cross such rivers as the Trinity, Brazos, Colorado and may others not so large. Sometimes when they approached a river that was up, the caravan camped for days and weeks waiting for the waters to recede before crossing was possible. While waiting, they had to herd the cattle and horses to keep them from running away, and to prevent Indians and thieves from driving them off.

Then travelers depended largely on wild game for food. The hunters usually had no trouble in killing plenty of deer, turkeys and buffalo, so meat was the major portion of their food. The hides of deer and buffalo were carefully saved and used to make robes, lariats and bridle reins and strings.

A hard days work and much excitement lay ahead when the waters of a stream receded enough that they could ford it. Sometimes the caravan was two or three days crossing a stream. Horsemen crossed first, selecting the most practical route, then four to six yoke of steers were hitched to one wagon. Several horsemen, with bull whips in hand, rode beside the steers to guide them, prodding them continuously until the stream was crossed and the bank on the opposite side was ascended. The steers were then re-crossed and in a similar manner, drew another wagon across the stream. This procedure was continued until all wagons were brought across.

Sickness delayed travel occasionally.   Heavy rains softened the ground until the wagons sank into the mire and the travelers had to wait until the top of the ground dried before moving on. Traveling by this method in pioneer days was a slow process and tested the patience of every individual in the caravan, yet they were happy. Each day and hour brought new scenery for their entertainment.

Slowly the travelers made their way through Hopkins, Kaufman, Dallas, Ellis, Hill, McLennan and Bell Counties and finally reached Little River in eastern Bell County. There were no white settlements on that long journey. Major Bryant had recently established a plantation on Little River, and with his forty negro slaves, had opened a large farm in this rich virgin valley. His chief business was raising corn and feeding it to hogs. Here, the caravans stopped for a few days to rest their weary oxen and let the cattle and horses graze on the free but luxurious grass. The women took advantage of the stop to do the laundry.

Major Bryant had a beautiful daughter about the age of Sam and they formed a friendship that was never forgotten. Years later Sam rode horseback thirty-five miles to the Bryant home to renew this friendship with the family and to see the pretty Bryant girl. The beautiful daughter, Amanda, lived in the same neighborhood all her life and died at the age of over one hundred years.

Major Bryant had a son about Sam’s age called “Bud.” They became warm friends. They rode the range in Bell County together and chased mustang ponies over the broad prairies when there were no farms nor barbed wire fences to molest them.

In 1849 when the gold fever broke out in California, Bud Bryant asked Sam to go there with him to amass a fortune. Sam refused to go, so Bud went alone. He prospered in mining and later established a citrus orchard in California where he spent the rest of his long life.

In 1901, just 52 years after he left Bell County for California, Bud returned to visit relatives and also his friend Sam. It was a joy to see these two elderly men, stooped with age, their hair a silvery gray, reminiscing about pioneer days of a half century before. Things had changed. Bud went to California in a stage coach. He came back in a swell railroad passenger car.

When he left Bell County in 1849 there were but few settlers in the county. Now the country had been converted into farms fenced with barbed wire; railroads had crisscrossed the country; towns and villages had sprung up everywhere and schools and churches were numerous where none existed when he had last seen the country. What a transformation from a wilderness to a civilization within a half century.

After much trouble crossing Little River and climbing the steep banks on the south side, the caravan headed south in the direction of Austin, the capitol of the Republic of Texas. Austin, on the Colorado river, had been laid out for a city and for the capitol of Texas about five years prior to this date.

The second day after leaving Bryant’s Station on Little River, the day was foggy, a heavy mist was hovering over the ground. Two of the men rode off to kill a deer or other wild game for dinner. They left the wagons about nine o'clock, expecting to join them again by noon or before.

At noon the hunters had not returned so the caravan pitched camp and prepared dinner. They rang ox bells and beat tin pans and occasionally fired a gun to attract the attention of the lost men, but there was no response. When dinner was over, the wagons were packed and ready to start but they hesitated, waiting for the lost men. Their safety was doubtful for the caravan was still passing through Indian country.

At last, one of the lost men, hearing a gun shot, came into camp.  The two hunters had separated some two hours before and had lost their direction on account of the fog. At this juncture, four or five men mounted their horses and struck out to hunt the other lost man. Each carried a pistol and occasionally fired to attract the attention of the lost man if they came within range of his hearing. He was found late in the afternoon after he had wandered around for eight hours, tired and hungry.

The long hours of suspense and excitement were now over and after a nights rest the dozen wagons plodded on their journey, knowing not where they were going, nor when their journey would end.

In a few days they reached Austin, the capitol of Texas, situated on the north bank of the Colorado River, the second largest river in Texas. The river was low and a good road crossed it, so the caravan crossed to the south side and camped for the night at Barton Springs.  These springs were in their natural primitive state; not a tree had been cut; not a stone had been turned by human hands.

The march of civilization has wrought great changes in and around Austin during the 109 years that have lapsed since this caravan of wanderers passed that way. Austin is now a city of 150,000 population with a beautiful park at Barton Springs which furnishes a place for its populace to picnic, swim, dance and play. Then, it furnished a watering place for deer and buffalo to quench their thirst, and the huge trees supplied shade under which they peacefully lay down to rest unmolested by human beings, in young Texas.

From the beginning of the Texas Republic in 1836 to 1841, the capitol of Texas was pushed around from pillar to post, holding its congressional sessions at various places. The records of the Republic likewise were moved here and there five times before a permanent capitol was located at Austin. Several efforts were made to locate a permanent capitol but failed for various reasons.

During Houston's administration as President of the Republic he tried in vain to get a permanent capitol located at the town of Houston.

Maribeau B. Lamar succeeded Houston as President in 1839 to 1841.  He opposed the Houston site. He had a dream of extending the Republic west to the Pacific Ocean. He wanted the capitol located as far west as civilization would permit. Accordingly, in 1841 he appointed a commission of five men to search the country to the west for a suitable site and make a deal for its purchase.

This body of men rode off to the west in compliance with orders from Pres. Lamar. They scrutinized the border settlements from Bell County south to the Colorado River. Two sites were considered by them:  Salado and Austin.  They camped at Salado before going to Austin and it was suggested that Salado would be a good site for the capitol. Austin was chosen and it is not recorded that any of them voted for Salado, notwithstanding the fact that it has been rumored many times that Salado got two votes and Austin three.
This commission secured an option to buy 1,000 acres on the north side of the Colorado River for $20.00 per acre.

The Texas congress approved the deal and $20,000 in script was delivered to the owner. Thus Austin became the permanent Capitol of Texas in 1841.

Soon the party moved on. Their next stop was at the beautiful San Marcos Springs, also in its primitive state. Col. Ben McCulloch was camped there with a company of his Texas Rangers. The travelers decided to stop for a few days and look at the country - camping near the spring where clear water comes belching out from under the hills and rolls off down its channel - a river from the start.

To one who loves the beauties of nature, San Marcos, at that time, presented an ideal picture. To the south, east and west, as far as the eye could see, were rolling prairies, hills and vales covered with green grass knee high, and dotted here and there with clumps of Elm and Live Oak trees. Acres of bluebonnets and many other wild flowers dotted the prairies in every direction. In the spring the air was filled with sweet perfume form the flowers while mocking birds, red birds and turtle doves sang from every tree.

San Marcos River meandered off to the southeast and abounded with fish that no human had cast a hook to lure. There was an abundance of water the year ‘round to quench the thirst of all animal life that came that way. Just before night-fall, wild turkeys could be heard gobbling on the timbered hills to the north while numerous deer played and scam-pered in the valley below.

To the north were hills covered with evergreen cedar with an occasional Live Oak grove, which provided shelter for animal life in winter and shade in summer. It would seem that this was the Garden of Eden that this group of wanderers had been seeking. Here was unlimited quantities of grass, water and timber - the three things that a stock man most desired.

One man in the party, whose name I do not know, decided to stop there and establish a home. His companions agreed that if he was determined to locate there they would help him build a log house. Accordingly, the next day all the men and boys in the party went to work at the job. Some would cut logs, some drag them to the house site, some hew them, while other placed them in proper position in the building.  In about ten days the house was finished and the family moved into a new home and thus ended their travels. That was the first house to be erected in San Marcos.

The house was built in the early summer of 1846, and Sam was fourteen years of age. He participated in the work of building this house by dragging the logs out of the forest to the building site with a yoke of steers and a log chain.

After this family was settled in their new home the remainder of the caravan took their departure and turned to the east. Two days later these families stopped at Lockhart, in Caldwell County, where most of them, including Joseph Bishop, established homes.

Very soon after locating at Lockhart, one Col. Roberts, closely related to Joseph Bishop, came to the camp and spent the night. He was on his way to join Gen. Taylor's army which was then at Corpus Christi and headed for Mexico to conquer that republic. War had been declared by the United States against Mexico. The Colonel and Joseph Bishop sat up late that night discussing the war in all its angles. Finally Col. Roberts suggested that he would like to take Sam along with him as a courier to carry messages between officers.

Although Sam was only fourteen years of age he had been raised on a horse, and the Colonel thought he would be an ideal helper. Sam was very enthusiastic about the whole thing and gained his father's consent to go along to become a soldier boy.

Col. Roberts planned to leave the next day in order to reach General Taylor's army before it left Corpus Christi en route to Brownsville.  However, to their great chagrin, it was found next morning that Joseph Bishop's forty head of horses had broken out of  the quickly improvised corral and were gone. It was Sam’s job to find and corral these horses.  The Colonel stayed over a day to wait for Sam to bring back the horses, but the horses could not be found and the Colonel went on to Corpus Christi without him. It took two weeks for Sam to find all the horses and put them back into the corral, and of course, it was too late then to find Col. Roberts. Sam was a disappointed boy because the stray horses caused him to forfeit the opportunity to become a soldier to fight in the war against Mexico in 1846.

So it is through all the journey of life. We are creatures of circumstances.  Events like this, apparently of small moment, may change the entire destiny of one's life and bar the achievement of fame or fortune.  At least this act of fate deprived Sam of the opportunity to be a soldier in Gen. Zachary Taylor's famous army in the War of 1846-48 between the United States and Mexico.

Joseph Bishop and his family remained in Caldwell County, near Lockhart, for two years, living a quiet and comparatively uneventful life. During this period Sam and his father drove a wagon loaded with cow hides to San Antonio. San Antonio, in 1847, was a small town, but one of the present landmarks, the Buckhorn Saloon was there then. Seventy-one years later in 1918, Sam revisited this historical city to marvel at the growth and development of civilization which time had wrought.

In 1848 Joseph Bishop and his family moved again. This time they located in Williamson County, where the town of Granger is now situated. This was the year that Williamson County was organized, and Georgetown was selected as the county seat. Joseph Bishop located his new home near the beautiful San Gabriel River, many miles from any other settlement.  The rolling prairie for miles and miles around was covered with native grass waist high, and buffalo, antelope, deer, turkeys, wild horses and wild longhorn cattle could be seen daily satisfying their appetites on this luxurious grass.

The black waxy soil was as rich as Texas affords. An abundance of lasting water was supplied by meandering streams here and there flowing eastward across the country. These streams were bordered with Pecan, Oak and Elm trees; good shade for beasts in summer and a windbreak in winter for the stock, also firewood for the settlers. However, wanderlust and the prospects of still greener pastures had not yet worn themselves out in Joseph Bishop, and after one year he moved again.

This time Joseph Bishop moved north to the adjacent county of Bell, it was in 1849 that he camped for the first time on Nolan Creek, about where the town of Belton, the county seat, was later established.  Bell County had not been organized at this time. Joseph Bishop was offered the land where Belton now stands for seventy-five cents per acre, but he considered this too high.

The next day he moved on to the Leon River about twelve miles farther north, and pitched camp at a spring on its bank where a village was later established call Moffatt. This town was named for Dr. Moffatt, who was the first doctor to establish practice in that section of the country. The writer has heard his father say that Dr. Moffatt carried his medicines in his vest pocket for years. Here, Joseph Bishop camped for three months while he searched for a location for a permanent home.

His camp at Moffatt was farther west than any other settler on the Leon River. The county to the west was occupied by Indians and to the east by a few scattered white settlements. In a day or two a big Indian walked up close to the tent and surveyed carefully his new white neighbors. Old Bull, the faithful dog, with bristles raised and crouching close to the ground, wanted to take the Indian, but for fear that there were many more nearby, the dog was restrained.  The Indian merely stood and looked, saying not a word, then walked away unmolested. Of course he had companions nearby. If Bull had not been restrained a historical Indian battle would have occurred.

Pens were built of cedar rails to hold the milk cows and their calves.  The cows were kept in the pen at night and the calves allowed to graze, and after the cows were milked in the morning, they were turned out to eat grass. Sometimes the cows would not come home before night and it became necessary for someone to hunt them and drive them in.  This of course was Sam’s job.

One evening Sam was out about a mile from home on the edge of prairie, afoot, looking for the cows. All of a sudden he discovered a wild bull, head and tail in air, coming at him full speed. There was a huge live oak tree nearby with a large limb some six feet above the ground and parallel to the earth. Sam made a dash for this limb, jumped and grabbed it, lifted his body up and the bull dashed under him, never stopping, but disappeared in the distance.

Sam shouldered his rifle one day, called to Bull and started for a deer hunt. Bull was trained to walk close behind his master while hunting, but when the gun fired Bull made a dash for the game and nothing could stop him. Sam soon sighted a large buck with huge antlers.  He fired at the buck and slightly wounded it. In an instant Bull had the buck by the nose and a rapid and exciting fight ensued. Sam kept his position, rapidly reloading his cap and ball rifle. In the meantime, the buck would sling Bull into the air and then try to pen him to the ground with his horns. Finally the buck succeeded in pinning Bull down between his horns but Bull never loosened his hold on the buck's nose. While the two ferocious animals were in that position Sam fired another shot which hit the buck in a vital spot and that ended the combat.

There were plenty of wild Mexican hogs in the hills nearby called Javalinas. These animals have long sharp tusks and when attacked are very fierce and dangerous. Sam and Bull jumped a bunch and chased them into a cave. They would all lie down except one, which stood guard at the entrance to the cave and fought away the dog. Sam shot and killed the one that stood guard, but immediately another would take his place. He stood in one place and shot the guards, one at a time, until he killed the entire drove. This was one of the sports Sam was privileged to enjoy in primitive Texas that no one in modern times can ever know.

Several streams empty into the Leon River near the spot where Sam’s father first camped on the Leon. Among them the Cowhouse and Bull Branch. Near the mouth of the Cowhouse and extending up stream for several miles on either side are high bluffs and caves. Many wild cattle would take shelter behind these bluffs from the cold northers of winter. Thus the stream took its name, Cowhouse. Bull Branch is a small stream only a few miles in length.

A man by the name of Potter was bear hunting near the head of this branch when a wild bull rushed at him and overtook him before he could climb a tree. The bull gored him to death. Thereafter the branch was known as Bull Branch. Nearby and running parallel to Bull Branch is a smaller stream called Heifer Hollow. It was within one mile of this place that the writer was reared from infancy to manhood.

After remaining in camp at Moffatt a few months, Joseph Bishop was pre-empted 320 acres of land about ten miles farther north on Stampede Creek. It was an ideal selection for a home, situated on a stream of lasting water, with a grove of oak trees for a building site. There was timber nearby and rich prairie land for miles around. This prairie was Sam’s favorite spot for chasing wild horses. In this home, near the northwest corner of Bell County and not far form Coryell and McLennon Counties, Joseph Bishop lived until his death in 1856.

When Joseph Bishop moved to his new home on Stampede Creek in the fall of 1849 wild animals were his neighbors. Mustang horses in great droves; numerous buffalo; hundreds of wild long horned Texas cattle, and antelope by the hundreds could be seen daily grazing on the prairie nearby. Deer, turkeys and prairie chicks were also numerous. It was Sam’s daily pleasure to hunt and slay these animals for sport and for the meat and hides.

Many of my readers have never seen a prairie chicken. They are very much like our tame chickens but smaller and brown in color. They are as delicious as our domestic fowls. They were numerous on the prairies of central Texas in pioneer days.

About ten to fifteen miles to the southwest of Joseph's prairie home along the divide between the Leon and Cowhouse rivers, there was a dense cedar brake. This brake covered a territory some five miles wide and fifteen miles long. The trees produce berries rich in protein which ripen late in the fall and hang on the trees all winter.

Thousands of robin redbreasts were attracted to this brake during the fall and winter for food. They got very fat and made a most delicious and palatable dish when fried or made into pies. These birds had a special place to roost in scrubby cedars in a space about one mile square. They all roosted there every night. People for miles around would congregate there at night. Men with torches in hand would catch and kill birds while the women fried them.

At intervals crowds would assemble around the camp fire and feast on fried robins. Many birds were taken home and the next day another feast was enjoyed eating bird pies.

Wild pigeons were also numerous in those pioneer days. Pigeons preferred to roost on the limbs of dead trees. Men would sneak up near them after dark and kill many with a shot gun. Pigeons also made a very palatable dish.

There was a very beautiful Mustang mare in herd that ranged nearby and everyone who saw her was anxious to throw a lariat around her neck and thus acquire possession of her. Several men, all with good horses and lariats, decided to chase her by relays one at a time until they could get close enough to throw the noose round her neck. After chasing the animal in this manner for many miles, until it was exhausted from the long and continuous chase, it ran to the South Bosque River near where the town of McGregor is now located, and leaped into the stream. She sank into the soft mud, lowered her head into the water and died without a struggle. Sam’s statement was: “The animal committed suicide.”

There was a fine stallion in the herd of horses that had been chased many times but no one could ever get near him. This fact made him the more to be desired. He had proven himself to be fleet of foot and long winded.

About twelve to fifteen men agreed on a certain day to catch that wiry and spirited stallion. They arranged to run him by relays. One would chase him full speed for two or three miles when another would fall in after him on a fresh horse. They kept this up from about nine o'clock in the morning until late in the evening, when Sam and another man ran up beside him, one on each side, and each threw his lariat around the animal's neck about the same time. They then threw him to the ground and tied all his feet together and left him there for the night. They estimated that they had chased the horse ninety miles before capturing him.

The next day the men came back to see the horse saddled and to see Sam ride him. When they returned to the horse they found that he had managed to release one foot. With three feet tied together he got up and eluded the lariat for some time. At last he was bridled and saddled and then unshackled and made ready for Sam to mount. You can imagine the excitement that prevailed. Everyone present was wondering if Sam had the nerve to leap astride this bronco - this wild beauty of the prairie - and if he did would he be able to ride him, or would he be thrown sky high and fall to the ground.

While all the spectators stood breathless Sam leaped into the saddle and the steed was released on the open prairie. He bucked, he bawled, he ran, but Sam stuck to that saddle as if he were glued there. Soon the horse gave out and the fun was all over.

About this same time Sam was riding the range one day looking for cattle or horses or both, and while out on a smooth prairie and far from any timber, a large wolf jumped up near him. Sam had his pistol but thought it would be fun to run on to the wolf, and instead of shooting, to whip it with his cow whip. After chasing it a mile or so he overtook the animal and with the cracker of his whip he struck him across the nose. The wolf fell dead. Sports such as above enumerated have passed into history. The march of civilization has removed them all forever. Present day generation can never experience the joy and thrills they brought to Texas pioneers.

There were but few settlers in the country and the nearest neighbors were from three to five miles away. It was not long however until immigrants from other states began to come to Texas and acquire free land. The homestead laws were very liberal. A man with a family could preempt 320 acres and single man 160 acres of land. If a person had a home site that was all he needed to operate a huge ranch. Most of the land around him was state land and if not it made little difference because there was no barbed wire, and to fence a large acreage on the prairie without wire was not at all practical. Consequently all stock ran loose and grazed upon everyone's land. The mark and brand of the cattle indicated to whom they belonged.

As previously stated, it was the year 1849 that Joseph Bishop settled on Stampede Creek. Sam was then seventeen years of age. He was an expert with the lariat and could ride anything on the range.

At this time there were many Mustangs, or wild horses, ranging on the prairie near his home. It was the chief sport of boys and men to chase them and throw a lariat on one and then saddle it and watch Sam ride it. It mattered not how high he pitched, Sam always stayed in the saddle. The horse would become the property of the person who roped it.

When another person would rope a wild horse, they frequently gave Sam $1.00 to ride it. Occasionally a gentle saddle would break loose and get with a bunch of Mustangs. Then the tame horse was as hard to catch as a wild one.

In April 1850 a legal election was called to select five commissioners, whose duty it would be to survey and locate the boundary lines of Bell county and also to locate the county seat.

Only one voting place was designated for the voters of the entire county, and that was on the east bank of Leon River about one mile from the present town of Belton. Sam and his father rode horseback twenty miles from the northern section of the county to be at the election. Sam’s father voted, but Sam, being only eighteen, could not vote. Sixty votes were cast - all the town could summon.

Mr. Josiah Hart, a brother-in-law of Joseph Bishop, Sam’s uncle was elected one of the five commissioners.
The commissioners proceeded at once, with a competent surveyor, to locate the boundary lines. They also located the county seat on Nolan Creek and named it Nolanville. The name was later changed to Belton.
In the following month of August 1850 another election was held to select county officials.

Sam lived in the county to see the voting strength grow from 60 to 8,000 and the population increase from 300 to 65,000.

Just sixty years after this first election, George W. Tyler was preparing a manuscript for a history of Bell County and in casual conversation with Sam, his life long friend, George learned from him the exact spot where the first election was held. It was one and one half miles east of Belton. George was delighted to learn about the exact location of this first election.

Sam and George Tyler, in company with several other pioneers of Bell County visited the tree, took measurements and pictures of it, and Sam made an affidavit as to the identity of the place and the tree which the first election was held.

In his history of Bell County, George had a picture of the tree and designated it “The Charter Oak of Bell County.” The affidavit pertaining to the Charter Oak made by Sam was spread on the minutes of the Commissioners Court of Bell County, and was instrumental in procuring a state marker, or monument, for the “Charter Oak of Bell County.” This marker now stands beside the highway leading from Belton to Temple just east of the Leon River.

Except for this casual conversation between Sam and the historian this bit of history would have been lost.

Another small incident wrought a material change in Sam’s life. While he was yoking the oxen to go to the cedar brake for firewood his stepmother interfered and bade him turn the oxen loose. Sam refused to obey and harsh words, probably an altercation, took place between them. As a result Sam saddled his horse and left home. He rode off to the west but found no homes at which to stop. The west was populated then only with wild animals and Indians. However, at a distance of thirty miles, he came to Fort Gates, now Gatesville. Government soldiers were stationed there to fight back marauding Indians and outlaws.

At Fort Gates, a man by the name of O.T. Tyler was employed by the government to cut, cure and rick prairie hay for the army horses.  Mr. Tyler hired Sam to help make hay. His wages were $1.00 per day.  He worked twenty three days and was paid in gold coin - four five dollar gold pieces and three one dollar gold pieces. This was the first money Sam had ever received for wages and certainly he was very proud of his earnings.

Next day he was looking at his gold coins and dropped some of the precious pieces in the grass. The dollar pieces were so small that he could not find them for quite a while. After that terrible scare he never took a chance again to lose the first money he had ever earned.  This was in the fall of the year 1850 and Sam was eighteen years of age.

While he was working there a baby boy was born to the Tylers. He was the first white child born in Coryell County and was named George W. Tyler. The Tylers later moved to Salado in Bell County and O.T.  Tyler became prominent as one of the organizers of Salado College.

George Tyler grew to manhood at Salado; was given a splendid education and for half a century was one of the leading lawyers of Bell County and an outstanding citizen and historian.

In the early fall of 1850 a man named John Beck, whose wife was a cousin of Sam’s, came to Fort Gates. He had procured a contract from the government to furnish beef to feed three hundred Indians located at Fort McKavitt on the head waters of the San Saba River. Mr. Beck bought five hundred steers near Fort Gates and hired Sam to help drive them to Fort McKavitt. The journey was more than one hundred and fifty miles through a wild and unsettled country. They traveled from Fort Gates by way of Fort Crogan, now the town of Burnett; then west to Fort Mason and farther west to Fort McKavitt. Here the starving Indians were waiting to be fed.

Sam remained at Fort McKavitt for a year. Each day he would shoot a beef with his pistol and three hundred hungry Indians would devour it. They ate everything except the hide, hair and bones. The part most relished by the savages was the liver. They would cut off a piece of liver and dip it in the blood and eat it raw. The intestines were also a favorite part of the beef. They would cut it into pieces about three feet long, give it a sling to empty it of its contents and proceed to eat the intestines raw.

This was quite an experience for a boy of only eighteen years - to be isolated from all civilization and live for a year with only soldiers and Indians. However, fate had deprived Sam of much association with people, as he had been moved around from place to place on the frontier all his life.

The daily routine at Fort McKavitt soon grew quite monotonous to Sam.  He tired of his daily companions of soldiers and Indians. He longed for new faces and wondered about his friends back home in Bell County from whom there were no letters. At the end of a year his contract with Mr. Beck was up so he decided to return home and join his family and the friends and associates he had left a year before.

It was quite an undertaking to traverse this more than one hundred fifty miles horseback and alone in an Indian infested country with no homes in which to take shelter at night. He made the hazardous trip in four days alone without any trouble. He was met by his family at their home on Stampede Creek with open arms. The prodigal son had returned and all were happily reunited.

Before leaving for the west to feed Indians, Sam had courted a beautiful girl named Emily Meadows. Their love was mutual and they had agreed to marry sometime in the future. Her parents ranked high in the community and Emily was a favorite with all who knew her.

When Sam returned from the west where he had been living lonely for a year, and as soon as he had greeted his immediate family, it was uppermost in his mind to see Emily and set the date for their wedding.  Emily lived some distance away. Sam put on his best clothes, mounted his horse and rode away to see the girl he loved but had not seen for more than a year. As he journeyed alone on the five mile trip he had ample opportunity to contemplate the future. He thought of the thrill of seeing Emily again and wondered if she was as pretty as when he saw her last. He wondered if she would set the date soon.  He thought of the responsibility of marriage and wondered if he could assume and carry out those duties in a manner that would meet Emily's approval and make her happy. As he rode along he thought of all this and more. His mind was reveling in love, in hope for future happiness when he would tread the uncertain path of life hand in hand and side by side with a lifetime companion.

In this happy state of mind when within three miles of his destination he met an old negro who belonged to the Meadows family and stopped to talk. Sam asked: “How is Emily?” “Oh, ain’t you heard? Miss Emily is done dead. We buried her three days ago. She done took sick and died very sudden.” This news struck Sam like a thunderbolt from the sky. He reigned his horse around and rode back in the direction whence he came. He rode back over the same road he had just traveled when his heart beat with joy and ecstasy.  Now he was broken-hearted, disappointed, dejected of spirit and all his hopes for future happiness were blasted. 

Who of mature years has not had heart aches or their lives made sad by disappointed love? Some pine and die; some give way to their grief and go through life unhappy. Sam took a different attitude and made himself recover from his grief to take his place in life as if nothing had happened.

There were no railroads nearer than a hundred miles of Bell County at that time. Freighting with ox teams and wagons from ports on the Gulf of Mexico 500 miles away became a prosperous business. All kinds of supplies were hauled from Port Lavaca and Indianola, two of Texas’ best seaports at that time.

Four to six yokes of steer would be hitched to a wagon and frequently a trailer wagon tied behind it. Usually two or more freighters would go together to assist each other in case of a breakdown, and in this manner the 500 mile trip and return would be made in safety.

These heavily loaded wagons with slow ox teams would plod along at the rate of three miles per hour, while the driver walked beside the left wheel with whip in hand. Occasionally he would pop the whip in the air and make a noise like the firing of a pistol. This sudden noise quickened the speed of the lazy oxen. If not, the next pop would make the hair fly from the body of the weary steer.

Figuring an average of fifteen miles a day it required about sixty days to make a round trip. Joseph Bishop engaged in this business and Sam made several trips with his father to Port Lavaca. It was on one of these freighting trips to Port Lavaca in 1856 that Joseph Bishop, being exposed to a cold wet norther, took pneumonia and died in a very short time. Other teamsters buried him there on the lone prairie. His resting place was never marked and until this day no one knows the location of his grave. Thus time passed away and soon forgotten was one of Texas’ earliest settlers who was a leader in paving the way for civilization in this great state.

In 1853 Sam was twenty-one years of age and he decided to turn his attention to acquiring cattle and horses of his own. He combined business with pleasure by riding and breaking “broncos” for himself and for the public. One dollar a day to ride a wild horse was considered good money. He usually rode the horse three days and then turned him over to his owner sufficiently gentled for his “tenderfoot” master to handle. Sam had a few cattle on the range, and while breaking wild horses, he was also looking after his cattle, marking and branding the calves, etc.

Several of Sam’s neighbors made a trip up the trail to Kansas City driving cattle to market. As they were returning home on one occasion in the Indian Territory they found an Indian pony that had been spoiled.  The Indians said that none of them could ride it. One man suggested that Sam could ride him. Another suggested that they buy the pony and drive it home with them just for the fun of seeing Sam ride it.  This idea met with the favor of all these Texas cowboys and quickly a deal was made and the pony was bought for $10.00.

Immediately after they arrived home Sam was notified as to what had been done and was asked if he would undertake to ride the pony. His answer very promptly was “yes.” The time was fixed and everyone for fifteen miles around was notified.

At the appointed hour, like people of this modern age going to a rodeo, a large crowd gathered to see the fun. Carefully the horse was saddled, the girths drawn to the proper tension and everything made ready for Sam’s exhibition. Sam donned his leather leggings and his long roweled spurs. When all was ready for a spill on the grassy prairie Sam placed his left foot in the stirrup and quickly mounted into the saddle. 

Breathlessly the excited crowd watched but the outlaw walked off as calmly and as quietly as any well mannered saddle horse. Imagine the chagrin of these boys who had paid their money for the horse, driven him several hundred miles, advertised the show only to meet with complete disappointment.

It was round up time for the cattle men. Sam was to ride the supposed outlaw horse on the two or three weeks trip. The men were all to meet at a designated place about three miles from Sam’s house.

Bright and early the next day Sam saddled the paint, mounted into the saddle and rode peacefully away to meet his comrade cowboys. He had gone about a mile, during which time the horse performed with perfect satisfaction, when suddenly without cause or provocation, this pony leaped into the air and hit the ground bucking. Then just as suddenly he began whirling around and around. This unexpected antic caused Sam to lose his seat in the saddle, but he caught a spur in the rigging of the saddle and grabbed the horn with one hand and swung on while the other hand was dragging the ground as the pony continued to go around in a circle. Upon apparently tiring of this circular motion, the horse stopped perfectly still. Sam attempted to pull himself into the saddle but when he let go his hold with the spur, the pony saw his chance and into the air he leaped again, this time throwing Sam to the ground. Sam was left afoot a mile from home and the ten dollar pony with bridle and forty dollar saddle ran off on the open prairie.

The Cowboys waited patiently for Sam to come, but finally two of them rode out to meet him. They soon found the cause of the delay and proceeded to rope the outlaw and lead him back to Sam. Angered by this antic of the horse which had dislodged him from the saddle, Sam pounced upon his back again and now being wise to his tricks, the horse could not extricate him again. After he had ridden the horse two or three weeks on this round up it was perfectly gentle and never pitched again.

Every normal person reaching the age of twenty-one has experienced that throbbing of the heart we call “love.” Sam was no exception to this characteristic of nature. He made a few visits to Bryant’s Station to see Amanda Bryant whom he met when the caravan rested there in 1846, but there was a lack of mutual affection between Amanda and himself, and his visits resulted only in lifelong friendship for her and her family.

Sam courted another girl who lived at Coryell City, Coryell County, but this girl had another suitor named Billy Hartin. Billy was infatuated with the girl and after weeks of friendly contest for her hand, Sam withdrew and Billy married her.

Sam and Billy didn't meet again for nearly forty years. Then the occasion of their meeting was a strange coincidence. The writer, Sam’s youngest son, was engaged to be married to Rosa Hartin. When the writer revealed this fact to his father, Sam inquired if she was related to Billy Hartin. The answer was: “Yes, Billy is her uncle.” Then for the first time Sam told his son of the rivalry between himself and Billy for the hand or the pretty girl nearly forty years before. On the occasion of the wedding these elderly men met for the first time in forty-four years and jocularly recounted their friendly courtship of younger days, one the victor, the other the vanquished.

Gradually families from the north and east moved into this country, and in 1854 James Clements moved from Cass County, in east Texas, to Perry Hills now Moody, Texas. He settled a home near the line of Bell and McLellan Counties, but in McLellan.

In his family were two grown boys, Bud and Adam, and two grown girls, Delilah and Martha. This family was quite an addition to the social activities of the community. Sam began to make frequent visits to this home and paid special attention to Delilah, the older girl. Their casual acquaintance soon grew to friendship and ultimately resulted in undying love.

In 1856 at Perry Hills in the home of James Clements, Sam and Delilah were united in marriage. They trod the uneven paths of life together for forty-four years, when Delilah departed from this life, leaving behind her a husband, a daughter and two sons.

Gov. Pat Neff
In 1854 Pat Neff, Sr., the father of ex-governor Neff, had taken a bride at his home in Illinois. The young couple left their native state immediately and spent their honeymoon in transit to Texas. They pre-empted a home consisting of 320 acres in Coryell County and thus became neighbors of Sam and Delilah. Their homes were only three miles apart. Ex-governor Neff was born and reared to manhood in this house; was educated at Baylor University in Waco. He served four years as governor of Texas and later became president of Baylor College, one of the greatest educational institutions in Texas.

The Neff home thus acquired remained their home throughout the entire lifetime of Pat Neff, Sr. In recent years it was donated by the Neffs to the State of Texas to be used as a State Park. For about fifteen years it has been maintained by the state as a public park, and citizens in and out of Texas are attracted there for its scenic beauty and its novel history.

Gov. James E. Ferguson
The Reverend James E. Ferguson, father of ex-governor James E. Ferguson, settled in Bell County in the ‘50’s and lived in the county continuously until his death. Rev. James E. Ferguson was one of the very earliest Methodist preachers in Texas. He came to Texas in 1835 before Texas was even a Republic. His sermons were among the first ever preached in Texas. He was an early circuit rider of the Methodist church and was noted for carrying a Bible in one side of his saddle-bags and a pistol in the other. He predicted when his son, Jim, was a child that Jim would some day be governor of Texas. The prediction came true but the father never lived to witness his inauguration.

James E. Ferguson, Jr. Elected Governor
Jas. E. Ferguson, Jr. announced for governor and promulgated an unique and attractive platform. Tenant farmers were being oppressed in those days by landlords. In addition to the customary one third and one fourth share crop, many landlords would require an additional bonus of $100.00 or more from the tenant.
Ferguson opposed that vehemently and offered a remedy.

Rural schools were not able to finance a nine months school term.  A three month to six month term was the average. At the same time, town and city schools were maintaining nine months terms. Ferguson opposed this discrimination.

He had several other planks equally as attractive in his platform.

Ferguson was elected. His first two year term moved smoothly and he was re-elected.

Early in his second term the legislature passed an appropriation bill providing for a huge sum for the State University. Ferguson vetoed a part of that appropriation on the grounds of discrimination between the University and the rural schools which were provided no aid at all. That veto act caused a great protest by the faculty and students.  They paraded the streets of Austin showing their contempt for the governor for vetoing the bill.

Enemies of the governor got together and preferred twenty-one indictments for impeachment of the governor. Through much turmoil and anger the senate tried the charges. The senate sustained only three of the indictments and thus impeached the governor.

The governor was angry and announced he would take it to the people in the next election. That scared the legislators so they immediately passed a law that any impeached officer could never hold office again.  Then Ferguson counseled with his friends. They agreed to run Mrs. Ferguson for governor, which they did. A heated campaign followed.  Ferguson appealed eloquently for the election of his wife. He said that would give Texas two governors for the price of one - said he could tote in the wood and kindle the fire while Ma did the work.  Ma was elected, being the first woman ever elected governor of a State.

Ma Ferguson served two years and was defeated for a second term. At the expiration of two years she ran again and was elected. Thus both Jim and Ma were elected twice governor of Texas.

Gov. Miriam A. Ferguson
Joe Wallace, the father of ex-governor Miriam A. Ferguson, was also an early settler in Bell County. Joe Wallace ranked high as a citizen and as a stockman and farmer. He acquired a large acreage of the very finest land in Bell County when land was cheap. Joe Wallace had the distinction of being the father of the first woman governor in the United States.

Sam had the good fortune and distinction of being neighbor, associate and friend for years to the parents of these three distinguished governors of Texas.

Sam, now married and feeling the responsibility of a family, began to bend his energies to acquire property. He preempted 320 acres of land on the open high prairie near the present town of Moody, and established a home on it. This was all the land needed to establish a stock ranch, for the entire country was an open range. As in the days when his father pre-empted land, there was no barbed wire with which to fence land; it would have been an unreasonable task to attempt to fence with rails, except for corrals and small patches for corn.  Accordingly everybody's stock ranged on everybody's land. There was but little inducement to acquire much land, even though it could be bought for from fifty cents to one dollar per acre. Very few people in Texas in the ‘50’s could realize that this rich black prairie land would some day be valuable for farming. Sam’s herd of cattle soon grew to one hundred head or more and he owned thirty or forty horses.
 

An Urge to the Trail

In 1857 a neighbor by the name of Stubblefield approached Sam and told him he was going to drive a herd of cattle to the northern market.  He wanted Sam to go with him as foreman of the herd and offered him $40.00 per month to make the round trip. He would also furnish horses for Sam to ride, and board him. It meant a long hard trip and but few nights under the shelter of a house. However, forty dollars per month was by far the largest salary he had ever been offered, and after consulting with Delilah, he decided to accept the offer. Preparation now must be made for the long journey up the trail to market and return. Kansas City was the prospective goal.

Nine hundred Longhorn Texas steers four years old and up had been procured by Mr. Stubblefield. They were in small bunches, scattered here and there in the vicinity.

Now a search must be made to procure ten hands to man the herd. Hands were scarce because the country was sparsely settled; however, the required number was soon secured. They began at once to assemble the cattle together at a control point. Two men were assigned the job of holding the herd together, while others drove the small bunches to it. It took several days to complete the task. Remember there were no fences in those days in Texas, so the herd had to be herded night and day by cowboys to keep the cattle from escaping. Then provision must be made for camping equipment and transportation. No wagons were available at that time so pack horses were used instead. A supply of blankets, cooking utensils and extra clothing for the men and a supply of food were procured and the necessary pack horses designated.  Two men were assigned the job of handling all the equipment and looking after the pack horses and doing the cooking.

The cowboys started from the present town of Moody, Texas about April 1st, 1857 with 900 longhorn Texas steers ranging in age from four to seven years.

When Sam bade good bye to Delilah and rode away he expected to be gone four or five months; instead he was gone seven months.

He and his cowboys headed to the north in the direction of Kansas City to blaze a new route to the markets of the east for Texas cattle.

It has been told and written many times that Chisholm blazed the first trail from Texas to the north with cattle, but that is a mistake.  Mr. Stubblefield, with Sam as foreman of the herd, blazed the way with this herd in 1857.

Mr. Chisholm made his first trip nine years later in 1866. However, Mr. Chisholm made many trips over this trail while Stubblefield made only one. Hence the credit was accorded to Chisholm.

The herd moved out slowly. Cattle are slow animals and when a great number are thrown together they make poor time. Besides it was necessary for them to have time each day to eat grass for no one thought of feeding a herd on the trail in those days. Then too it took considerable time to cross the streams; most of them had to be forded as there were very few bridges to span them. Occasionally they came to a toll bridge and the proprietor refused to let the cattle cross on it for fear of breaking it down. Sometimes the water was too deep to wade and then the cattle had to swim. Twelve to fifteen miles per day was the average distance by this herd.

Nothing unusual happened until the herd had reached the vicinity of Fort Worth. Fort Worth at that time consisted of a blacksmith shop, two or three stores and saloon. Shortly after passing through this little village they pitched camp and bedded their cattle down for the night. In the distant northwest a dark cloud was slowly approaching.  As it came nearer brilliant flashes of lightning illuminated the sky and mournful rolling thunder could be heard.

All hands were called out and told to ride slowly around the herd to prevent a stampede if possible. The cloud came nearer and soon rain began to fall in torrents. Lightning continued to flash and to flit from horn to horn among the cattle. It was now evident that a stampede was likely to take place any moment. As the cowboys rode slowly around the herd they sang a mournful song to attract the attention of the cattle and keep them quiet. Jingling bells swinging from the spurs of the cowboys also had a tendency to keep the cattle calm. Suddenly about midnight a bright flash of lightning was followed quickly by a keen clap of thunder. Nine hundred steers at the same instant dashed into the darkness of the night. The rumbling of their feet splashing in the mud was as deafening as the thunder in the elements.

Sam dashed out ahead of the stampeding cattle but he did not go far in the darkness until his pony plunged into a gully which was filled with water. Huge steers began plunging in around him but the sure-footed horse climbed out ahead and on they went. Sam managed to keep ahead of the cattle but soon plunged into another gully. Again the horse with rider climbed to the bank and continued in the lead of the stampeding herd. Sam now began to circle, the cattle following him, and soon he had them milling in a small circle and succeeded in stopping the entire herd. Then looking around he discovered that he was the only cowboy near the herd. The others did not care to endanger their lives by riding in front of these stampeding cattle in the darkness and the rain.

Soon there came another clap of thunder and away the cattle went again.  This time Sam made no attempt to stop them. Instead he crawled into a thicket after staking his horse, and with his saddle for a pillow and a wet blanket for a bed, he retired for a few hours rest before the dawn of another day.

Next morning the clouds were gone and the sun rose clear in the east, but Sam remained in his hidden bed in the thicket for several hours while the balance of the cowboys searched everywhere for him and the stampeded cattle. It was several hours before they found Sam, and in the meantime there was much excitement for fear he had been trampled to death by the fleeing cattle. The cattle were now rounded up and a count made. Forty were missing.

The main herd was started on while two men were left to hunt the forty missing steers. They searched for two weeks but never found a steer.  The cattle were probably rushed away by Indians or professional rustlers.  The loss of these steers amounted to about $1,600.00 - quite a discouraging incident at the beginning of their long journey.

The destination of this herd had not yet been decided. Their objective was Kansas City for sure, and if market conditions were not satisfactory they would proceed to Chicago.

One of the greatest obstacles in the way of progress was crossing rivers with the herd. Between Ft. Worth and Kansas City on the direct route were many large rivers, such as the Red River, the Arkansas, the Canadian and many smaller ones. Usually a ferry boat could be used for crossing the larger rivers but never a bridge. There was neither bridge nor ferry across the Red River so it had to be forded, not only with the herd, but also with the pack horses. In crossing this stream they encountered quicksand and bog holes. It was with much difficulty and danger to property and life that this stream was crossed but they succeeded without the loss of a single steer.

Nothing exciting or unexpected took place from the time the herd crossed the Red River until they reached Kansas City, except for a few encounters with Indians while passing through the Indian Territory. Sam gave the hungry Indians three or four beeves, which satisfied the Indians and they permitted the cowboys to pass through their territory without further molestations.

For weeks before the herd arrived at Kansas City the citizens had learned that these longhorns were coming. The newspapers had advertised that a herd of Texas Longhorn steers, driven by Texas cowboys would pass through the city on a certain day. The entire populace of the city and surrounding country had gathered on the streets, awnings and housetops, to witness their passing.

It was like a menagerie come to town. It was indeed a great show to these Northerners. Bridle reins, cow whips and lariats were all made of rawhide. Saddle girths were home made from the long hair of horses’ tails. Each cowboy had a pistol or two hung to a belt around his waist.

As they passed along main street between tall buildings on either side, the jingling bells fastened to the cowboys’ spurs, they were an astonishing thing to the spectators. Many were the expressions of surprise at the long horns of the steers, four to five feet from tip to tip, and the unusual garb of the cowboys.

The market at Kansas City was not satisfactory but Mr. Stubblefield did sell about thirty head to get money for current expenses, and then drove the balance of the herd on toward Chicago.

The herd was driven on the west side of the Mississippi River until they reached Davenport, Iowa, before crossing. They were not going in the direction of Chicago but much to the west. There was a threefold purpose in this: 1st, owners of toll bridges across the Mississippi would not permit the cattle to cross on them; 2nd, the cattle had to have grass every day and the country was more sparsely settled on the west side of the river than on the east, so grass was better and more plentiful; 3rd, by keeping to the west they avoided the denser settlements and agricultural areas of Illinois, which would have given trouble keeping the cattle off of growing crops. Also preventing domestic cattle from getting into their herd. Some unscrupulous herdsmen never tried to extricate domestic cattle from their herds. Just drove them on to market.

At Davenport, Iowa, they found a ferry boat connecting with Rock Island, Ill. A deal was made to haul the cattle, drivers and horses across the river on this ferry boat. The first load consisting of about fifty steers, a cowboy and his horse, were driven onto the boat.

As the boat shoved off from land with its cargo, a big longhorn steer became excited, and with head high in the air, rushed around from one side of the boat to the other. Just as they reached mid-stream of the great Mississippi River this steer in his excitement leaped over the ballaster into the river. He swam out on the bank where the boat was to land, but he did not stop. He discovered a washing of clothes on the line nearby and rushed for the white garments. He hooked the clothes, tore down the line, frightened the wash woman and ran her into the house, and played havoc generally.

The boat soon landed and the belled steer walked off in the lead.  The excited steer heard the bell and came running to the herd. Sam was on his horse on the boat with the cattle, a silent spectator of the steer's antics. When the boat landed he rode directly to the house where the steer had caused such havoc with the intention of paying the lady for the damage the steer had done. But, lo! Out of the house came the lady with a shotgun in hand, raving mad. In her anger she pointed the gun at Sam as if she meant to shoot him. As quickly as a flash Sam drew his pistol from its holster, pointed it directly at her and said:  “Drop that gun or I’ll kill you.” She opened her hands and the gun fell to the ground. Then Sam coolly remarked, “Lady, I came here to pay for the damage the steer has done. You could see that the steer was out of our control. We could not prevent him from doing what he has done. Now calm yourself and tell me the amount of damage.” An agreement was reached and she was promptly paid. By this time both the steer and woman had calmed down and the incident was closed.

The herd, now on the east side of the Mississippi River, at Rock Island, Ill., was turned east for Chicago which was still many miles away.

When they reached a point within twenty miles of Chicago it was decided to rent a pasture and hold the cattle for a week or two and give the owner an opportunity to ride into the city and negotiate a sale. It was Sam’s job to stay with the herd and keep them together until the owner returned. He procured a boarding place with the owner of the pasture and for the next two weeks Sam watched the herd.

During his stay there a sixteen year old boy at the boarding house became very much interested in Sam because he was a Texas cowboy, and followed him everywhere he went constantly asking questions about Texas, cowboys, etc. The boy remarked that he had heard that these Texas cowboys could shoot a pistol with such accuracy as to kill squirrels in high trees. Sam said, “Yes, I can do that.” The boy, apparently doubting Sam’s statement, suggested that if Sam would follow him he would show him a squirrel to shoot.
Down through the timber on a creek they strolled and sure enough he pointed out a squirrel high in a tree. Sam drew his cap and ball revolver, and holding it in one hand at arms length, fired. Out tumbled the squirrel to the ground dead. The boy was bewildered and talked about this great feat every day to his family and neighbors.

For two weeks Sam kept watch over the herd until the owner returned from Chicago and stated that he had contracted to sell the entire herd.

Here I must remark that the cattle were in better flesh than when they started from Texas five months before. They were driven into the city and the purchaser paid Mr. Stubblefield forty dollars a head in cash. The herd consisted of 900 head when it started, but forty were lost in the stampede, and thirty sold in Kansas City to obtain expense money, leaving about 830 head delivered in Chicago netting $35,000.

While strolling around in the city of Chicago admiring the sights Sam found a business house with buggies on display for sale. A buggy was as much a curiosity to him as longhorn steers and cowboys were to the residents of Chicago. Sam thought what a wonder a buggy would be to his neighbors in Texas and finally decided to buy one. He paid $160.00 for the buggy and harness and headed back to Texas in grand style - the owner of a brand new buggy. He took a more easterly route on his return in order to traverse country more populated, where he could find roads on the land and bridges across the streams.

Passing through Missouri, an eighteen year old boy accosted him on the roadside seeking a ride. (We would call it “thumbing” a ride now.) Sam allowed the boy to climb in beside him and by way of conversation inquired how far he was going. The boys answer was to inquire of Sam how far he was going. When told that Texas was his destination, the youngster begged to ride with him all the way and no amount of persuasion would change him from his course. He was determined to go to Texas in some way. At last Sam agreed to let him accompany him all the way.

This boy's name was Scott Goodsal. He was an intelligent boy and Sam enjoyed him very much on this long journey to Texas. Goodsal afterwards settled in Belton, married there and reared a daughter who became the wife of Sam Street, who in recent years became chief detective of the police department in San Antonio.
Sam Street was a schoolmate of the writer at Salado College in Bell County in 1883, seventy four years ago. Mr. Street was murdered while in line of duty as chief detective of San Antonio by a man he was attempting to arrest.

Sam started up the trail with this herd the first of April 1857 and returned home about the first of November. It took him seven long months to make the round trip.

On his return he passed through Dallas which was then a small village of five or six business houses. In the latter days of his life he visited Dallas when it had a population of 300,000 people.

The buggy was really a curiosity to Sam’s Texas neighbors and all of them wanted to borrow it. Sam soon saw that his friends were wearing out his buggy so he began to try to trade it or sell it. He did trade it even for 160 acres of land lying two miles from the present town of Moody. This was all rich black land with a spring of lasting water but it did not appeal to him as having much value, so he traded it for cattle valued at $400.00. Sam lived to see that 160 acres worth $40,000.00 for agricultural purposes.

In 1859 rumors of civil war began to grip the country. It soon became apparent that several of the southern states would secede from the Union; then the question arose, “ What will Texas do about it?”

The first thought of many persons in the South was that withdrawal from the Union meant a war for the sole purpose of protecting and preserving slavery.

Sam took the position that he had no slaves to protect and was therefore not willing to go to war to protect other peoples property - slaves.

Sam studied the situation carefully. He hated to leave his family for an indeterminate duration of time to engage in the perils and hardships of war. Besides Delilah he had a three year old daughter to care for. He disliked to leave his 300 young cows and his 40 horses to the mercy of thieves and Indians to be dissipated by cowards while he fought their country's battles. He had no slaves to protect and didn't care to take the chance of getting killed in war. He talked these matters over with Delilah and they finally decided to move a little farther west with their stock, and he would try to stay at home and take care of his family and his possessions. So in 1860 he moved to Coryell County near the present town of Killeen at a place then known as Sugar Loaf.

General Sam Houston came to Belton to make a speech. Houston was governor of Texas at that time. Sam rode twenty miles to Belton to hear Houston speak.

Houston said that as governor of the state he felt it his duty to inform the citizens of Texas his views on secession and what the results would be. In that speech, among other things, Houston said:

“When the first gun is fired away goes all your slaves. They will be freed and you will lose millions of  dollars now invested in them. The rivers will run red with the blood of the best citizenship of the country.  Owls and bats will take up their abode in your houses and grass will grow green in your streets.”

At this juncture about twenty five hot secessionists drew their pistols and attempted to start a riot. Women jumped up and ran. Gen. Houston called to them: “Be seated, ladies, be seated. It's nothing but the fists barking at the big cur.” Whereupon everything became quiet and the General proceeded with his speech. Houston did not live to know that his forecasts came true. He died in 1863, two years before the war closed.
Soon after this speech by Houston, a great statesman, the supreme court of the U. S. handed down an opinion that negro slaves were property - same as cattle or horses, etc. Then the South contended that if the North could free the slaves and thus confiscate property, by the same logic, it could confiscate cattle, horses or any other personal property; and therefore they were justified in seceding and forming a new government that would protect them in their possessions.

A few months before moving to Sugar Loaf there was an Indian raid known as the Riggs Murder, and it was in the Riggs house where this family had been massacred that Sam and Delilah moved to escape the war and protect their property. They moved into this old log house taking a desperate chance of a repetition of the horrible scenes of a few months previous in preference to the privations and horrors of war. Since the Riggs Murder story is so closely connected with Sam’s life, I pause here to relate the details of this tragedy.

The John Riggs family consisted of himself and wife, two daughters, Rhoda nine, Margaret five, and two sons - William three and one half, and John nine months.

On March 16th, 1859, sixteen Indians came upon Mr. Young Pierce who lived a few miles from the Riggs family and killed him. Then continuing toward the Riggs home they met Mr. Riggs and Davie Elms, a sixteen year old boy, each were driving a wagon.

They were only about 400 yards from their home when the Indians attacked them. They whipped young Elms unmercifully and stripped him of his clothes. Elms dashed into a thicket and made his escape.

Mr. Riggs fought the Indians with rocks while they were shooting arrows into his body. Mrs. Riggs saw the fight and ran to the aid of her husband. Both Mr. & Mrs. Riggs were soon killed by arrows pierced into their bodies. The Indians grabbed the two small girls, put them on horses behind them and fled. The infant child and small boy were left unmolested. This tragedy happened about 9 a.m. It was mid afternoon before a posse of men could be assembled to start in pursuit of the villains.

When the Indians had traveled about eight miles, a Mr. Cruger, while riding the range, discovered the Indians about 300 yards distant.  Cruger whirled his horse and ran in the direction of Belton. The Indians pursued him a short distance but Cruger escaped and spread the alarm all the way to Belton, fifteen miles away. The Indians then turned west.. In a few miles they met a white man named Peavy. They murdered him and continued rapidly to the west.

It is now late in the afternoon and the two little girls were still being held on the horses. What an ordeal they are suffering. About this time the Indian carrying the small girl attempted to pass her to another Indian while riding rapidly side by side. He dropped the child to the ground. The older girl, seeing her sister thrown to the ground, jumped from the speeding horse she was on and ran back to her sister. The Indians, being afraid the white men were close after them, continued westward not stopping to pick up the children. It was now getting dark. The little girls, bruised, barefooted and hungry, walked back the way they came.

In the distance they saw the top of a chimney. They went to the house and found it vacant. It was now nearly dark and a cold wind blowing from the north. The girls went into the house. The older girl pulled off her dress and wrapped it around her shivering sister.

The posse of twenty men who were pursuing the Indians camped when dark came on a short distance before coming to this house.

The next morning they found the children. They took them to the nearest home where they were fed and given clothes to protect their naked bodies.

The posse then followed the trail of the Indians for one hundred miles.  Coming to Fort Colorado they were informed that soldiers from the Fort were pursuing the Indians. The Indians were never captured.

The two girls were turned over to relatives who cared for them tenderly.  Neighbors went to the Riggs house to inspect the situation. They found the nine months old child scrambling in its mother's blood, trying to nurse.

That's a sample of one of the many tragedies of pioneer life in Texas.

The Riggs baby grew to manhood in the state of Colorado. Once every year as long as he lived he would return to the Sugar Loaf cemetery and place flowers on the graves of his father and mother.

The writer's mother and sister, his grandfather and many other dear relatives are buried in the same Sugar Loaf cemetery with the Riggs.

Sam made another trip to Belton to hear a prominent secessionist speak. He became thoroughly converted to the justice of secession.

Sam joined the first company that was organized in Bell county, and marched off to war, leaving his wife and small daughter and all his earthly possessions to the mercy of men who were exempted from service, and left there to protect war widows and their property.

On arrival at Dallas these green Texans assembled and were supplied with such fighting equipment as could be hastily obtained. They were given some training in army maneuvering and, late in the year 1861, were put on the march to Arkansas.

At Helena, Arkansas on the Arkansas River near its mouth, there had already been established a confederate post with Col. Roger C. Mills in command. Here they were placed in training for several weeks. It was winter and the weather was cold and rainy. The soldiers were exposed to this inclement weather and many of them took pneumonia and several died. Among those who died was Sam’s brother, Joe, who had left his wife and two small sons in a frontier home in Coryell county while he marched off to war to fight for his country. Sam nursed his brother, Joe, until he died then buried him there near Helena, Arkansas.

Federal soldiers were coming up the Mississippi river in gun boats, headed for this post, with the intention of capturing it. The Dallas boys marched to Helena to strengthen the post.

Early in January, 1862, the coldest season of the year, a battle was momentarily expected. Everything was in readiness; some skirmishing was going on and all of a sudden to the surprise of most all the confederate soldiers, the white flag was raised which meant their surrender.

Sam had been elected a lieutenant, but at this time his captain was ill, so Sam was acting as captain of the company. When the white flag was raised Sam rushed to his colonel who had surrendered the post and exclaimed, “Colonel, what does this mean? We have been trying for two weeks to bring on this fight. Now, just when we are ready to go to battle with everything in our favor, you surrender. Why?” 

The colonel's reply was: “Do not question the action of a superior officer.” Sam remonstrated, “There is no reason to surrender and be made prisoners. We are in our own country and if you don't want to fight every one of us can escape through the pine woods to the south and east and thus avoid being made prisoners. I, for one, am not going to surrender.” The colonel replied, “I’ll have you court-martialed for disobedience to a superior officer.”

By this time a crowd had gathered around to listen to the quarrel.  Sam was very indignant at the action of the colonel, and in a fit of passion, drew his pistol and fired at the colonel's head. A comrade of Sam’s from Bell County, Uncle Billie Blair, (who afterwards served Bell County as treasurer for more than twenty years) struck the pistol, knocking it upward just enough for the bullet to miss the officer's head, but it went through his hat.

While this colloquy was going on many confederate soldiers ran off into the woods and escaped. The Federal soldiers closed in on the remaining confederates and proceeded to disarm them, place them under armed guards and march them into a boat that was anchored nearby.

Although many of the confederate soldiers had evaded capture by running off through the thick pines, Sam was not one of these, for his comrades had persuaded him not to desert the army. They argued to him that they would soon be exchanged and returned to the Southern army; so Sam was unarmed and marched into the boat with all the other prisoners.

Now began the first real deprivation and hardship of the war. The boat loaded with prisoners sailed up the Mississippi River to the mouth of the Ohio River, and then up the Ohio River to the state of Ohio where the soldiers were placed in prison at Columbus.

As these prisoners were disembarking from the boat in the falling snow which had already covered the ground, they were very cold. These Confederates were used to a mild southern climate and, being thinly clad when they encountered this sub-freezing weather, their suffering was intense.

They were lined up and each man was again searched and relieved of all weapons, including even pocket knives. Sam happened to be near the end of the line and was compelled to stand there in the cold until his time came to be searched. Shivering from cold he began to stamp his feet on the ground to quicken circulation of the blood and to add warmth to his body. A German guard nearby drew his saber and struck him across the belly and at the same time commanded, “Stand still.” This enraged Sam to such an extent that he almost died with anger.  However, he was a helpless prisoner of war and could do nothing about it. The writer has often heard him say that if he had had any kind of weapon he would have killed that German, knowing that his own life would have paid the penalty.

The officers were placed in prison at Camp Chase, Ohio, and the privates at Columbus. The boat that conveyed them to their prison homes docked on the bank of the Ohio, about sunset and it was midnight when they all got into the bull pen.

This improvised prison was constructed of two by twelve lumber, stood on end. At the top of the wall, which was about sixteen feet high, there was built a runway, and two Federal guards with guns at shoulder, marched continuously around watching their helpless prisoners below.  Here, within the walls of this bull-pen, Sam and his comrades remained day after day; fervently wishing they had run out through the thick pines and escaped this awful punishment. These poor unfortunate prisoners had plenty of time for meditation. Their minds wandered back to their once happy homes in the southland, where their wives and children had been left to the mercy of those who refused to become soldiers for their country. This mental agony and the humiliation of being prisoners was hard to bear but was endured day after day.

At the expiration of three months of mental suffering, word came that the prisoners would be exchanged and sent back to Dixie to rejoin their Confederates again. But, Lo! on the morning that they were to entrain, Sam developed an illness which was so serious that he could not travel. Erysipelas in the face had rendered him almost blind.  He was compelled to remain there for two more months before an order was received to release him. His only associates for that sixty day period were a few others who were also too ill to be moved.

Finally after looking at the walls of that bull-pen and the guards walking around on top of it for five months, he was entrained for the south. He boarded the train at Columbus, Ohio, and went through Pittsburgh, Penn; thence to Baltimore, Md. There he was transferred to a boat and sailed down Chesapeake Bay to the mouth of the James River; thence up the James River to Jamestown, Va. There he was again transferred from boat to train. He was then carried west across Virginia, N. Carolina, Tennessee, and into Mississippi. When the train stopped at a station somewhere in Mississippi, Sam was ordered to get off and report to his colonel at whom he had shot and tried to kill five months before.

Sam lingered around the station a short while, for he was definitely not going to report to his colonel to be court-martialed or shot by military authority.

He longed to see his family so struck out afoot to the west until he reached the Mississippi River. There he asked a boatman to ferry him across the river. The boatman agreed to cross him for ten dollars.  Sam handed him ten dollars in Confederate money and the boatman refused it, saying it was of no value, and demanded “good money.” Sam said this was all he had and the boatman refused to cross him.  At this moment they heard the loud coarse whistle of a steamboat on the river and the boatman said:  “That's a Yankee boat coming.  It will soon be here and they are sure to get you.”  Sam drew his revolver and demanded to be put across the river without delay. 

After they reached the other side the boatman asked for the confederate money he had previously refused. Sam would not give it to him because he had refused it once. The boatman remarked: “The Yankees haven't killed all the damned confederates that need killing.”

Sam walked away and managed to return to Bell County, a distance of some five hundred miles.

In spite of hardships,  Sam’s attitude toward the army was not changed. He wanted to get back into the service at once and besides he didn't want to be arrested as a deserter.

In the summer of 1863 he obtained a commission as a recruiting officer and for the next ten months was constantly on the job, running down and arresting men who were hiding in the cedar brakes and hills, trying to stay out of the war. This was certainly an unpleasant and a dangerous job, but just another part of war.
Sam had obtained information that quite a number of men were hiding in the cedar brake and rugged mountains.  They were deserters, renegades and outlaws - a dangerous class of people.

Sam decided he would approach them and try to prevail on them to come out and join the army. Riding alone in a path in the cedar brake he suddenly was halted by a guard and asked what he wanted. When Sam told him his business the guard ordered him to leave. Sam asked the guard to have their leader come to him so he could talk to him. The request was granted and the leader came. Sam said to him: “You and your men are making a serious mistake. This war will be over sometime and if you continue to pursue your unpatriotic course you will be dubbed a disgraceful traitor to your country. You can never outlive it and your family will feel the disgrace you have heaped upon them all their lives. You had better come out and join the army and fare like the rest of  us.”

Sam said he could see the man wilt. He told Sam to come back tomorrow and he would reveal his decision after counseling with his men. Sam returned the next day and five of the gang came with him and were enlisted in the service.

When Sam returned from prison, more trouble was awaiting him. A nephew had killed a preacher for aiding and abetting thieves in stealing his horses. The community was aroused over the killing of their preacher and several citizens were hunting for the killer. A leading citizen of the community, and a friend of Sam’s came to him and asked if he knew where this nephew was.  Sam replied that he did.  “Then as an officer, I command you to bring him in.” Sam refused, saying: “He is my nephew.  I will not bring him in nor tell you where he is.” At this point the matter was dropped.

This nephew had previously asked his Uncle Sam for advice about what to do and Sam had advised him to leave at once for Mexico. He was told to go west and keep well on the frontier, away from settlements.  The boy agreed to do so, but wanted to see his sweetheart before leaving.  Sam could not persuade him to go at once. He felt that he must see his girl before leaving. The next day while on his way to see his sweetheart eight men, all well armed, discovered him and undertook to arrest him. The boy was on a fine horse and fleeted away on the prairie, the eight men in pursuit. The chase lasted for several hours but at last the boy was shot from his horse and killed. Sam was then desperate and proceeded to arrest a number of these men and place them in the army.

Sam learned that a large band of deserters were hiding out near New Braunsfels. He obtained the assistance of twelve or fifteen men and detailed them to go with him in search of the clan. All of Sam’s men were well armed. They got on the trail of the deserters and pursued them in a gallop on their horses. While in hot pursuit Sam’s horse gave out. They were passing by a German home by the roadside and noticed a nice fat pony in the corral. Without hesitating Sam changed his saddle from his own horse to this pony. A German woman came out and vigorously protested the stealing of their pet horse. Sam tried to explain that he was not stealing the horse and that he would bring it back, but she was German and neither could understand what was being said by the other. As he rode away on this fresh horse the woman wailed and cried, believing she would never see her pet pony again.

Late in the evening they overtook the band of deserters and captured them. They disarmed their prisoners and pitched camp for the night.  Two men at a time stood guard over the prisoners during the entire night. At this time they were about thirty miles west of New Braunsfels.  Next day as they proceeded leisurely back to New Braunsfels, with their prisoners, they passed the ranch where Sam had borrowed the horse. He dismounted and led the pony back into the corral. Two German men and two women came out and greeted him with great joy. Their beloved pet pony had been returned. To show their gratitude they invited him into their home and served him wine to his heart's content.

It was now early fall of 1864. The Confederacy was beginning to show signs of weakness. All her ports of entry had been blocked by the Federals except the Port of Brownsville and Clarkeville at the mouth of the Rio Grande River. These ports were now the only outlet for export of cotton, the South's only resource for money with which to carry on the war. An order had been given by the Federals to dispatch gunboats and soldiers to Brownsville to blockade that port and prevent cotton from reaching the Mexican market.

In 1928 the writer was County Auditor of Cameron County, and at this time Arthur Cowden was Tax Assessor for the county. One day these two men were engaged in casual conversation about the Civil War. Mr.  Cowden remarked that his father was a colonel in the Federal army and gave the order for soldiers to be sent to Brownsville to blockade the port and prevent the South's cotton from reaching Mexican markets.  The writer replied: “My father headed the advanced guard of the confederates that marched from San Antonio to Brownsville to prevent the blockade.” This was a strange coincidence that the sons of two soldiers on opposing sides should discover, sixty years after the war was over, and they were each county officials of the same county and lived in the same town that was the point of international controversy before they were born.

Cotton was being freighted on heavily loaded and guarded ox-wagons from all the cotton growing sections of Texas and Louisiana to the Brownsville port.

This was being done by confederate soldiers under the direction of the war department. Cotton was bringing forty cents per pound in Mexico and was being rushed across the Rio Grande in great quantities.

When the Confederates heard of this move by the North to blockade their last open port, they countered by sending an army there to prevent its being done. Hastily an army of five hundred men was assembled at San Antonio preparatory to a three hundred fifty mile trek to Brownsville over an unsettled country of sand dunes and Chaparral and Mesquite brush. A part of this army of five hundred men was composed of men whom Sam had shortly before recruited. Sam was among these soldiers and led the advance guard all the way to Brownsville. His Colonel was named Showalter.

This little bunch of Confederates rode to Rio Grande City, a small town on the bank of the Rio Grande River, about one hundred miles west of Brownsville. They recalled that in the war of 1846-1848, Robert E. Lee, U.S. Grant, Gen. Johnson and others of prominence, serving in that war under Gen. Zachary Taylor, had also stopped at this same place while serving as soldiers fighting for a common cause. Now in the Civil War, these great generals were divided; some for the North and some for the South.

Preparatory to leaving Rio Grande City thirty men were detailed as an advance guard to take the lead; to ride ahead of the main army; blaze the way and look out for Federal soldiers. Sam was placed in command of this squad. Bill Evetts, a Bell County man and a friend to Sam, rode by his side. In later years Sam made the remark that no braver man than Bill Evetts ever went to war. Many of his descendants still live in Bell County; some of them becoming prominent officials of the county. A son and a grandson each served as County Attorney, and one of them was District Judge.

When this advanced guard reached a point some twenty miles west of Brownsville and at the noon hour, they suddenly spied some Federal soldiers taking their siesta after lunch. Sam’s men rushed upon the Federals with pistols drawn and demanded their surrender. They surrendered without a struggle. There were twenty five of the captives. They were out foraging for food for the Federal army which was stationed at Fort Brown. It was learned from these prisoners that there were three thousand Federals at the Fort.

The guard waited here with their prisoners until the main army came up and then turned them over to it. After a short counsel Sam was instructed to proceed on to Brownsville with his guard and to select a camping place for the Confederate army before night. He was instructed to pitch camp as close to the Fort as he thought would be practical.  This Sam did.

Fifty two years after Sam pitched this camp he returned to Brownsville and pointed out to the writer the spot where the Confederate army had camped before they took possession of Fort Brown. This camp was near the present home of Dr. W. W. Spivey, in West Brownsville, at Eighth and Levee streets. They were close enough that the Federals could see their camp fires plainly.

After nightfall the main army arrived at the camp and the soldiers were ordered to build a number of blazing fires and all would pass back and forth between the fires and the Fort. The object of this was to deceive the enemy, making them believe there were many more in number than in reality there were.

The next morning Sam was instructed to take two men and proceed as close to the Fort as was safe;  to spy around and get all the information he could as to number and exact location of the enemy, etc; and to report back to his command. These orders were obeyed and Sam soon returned with the information that the Federals had evacuated the post. Not a man was there to be seen. The camp fire trick had worked.  The Federals, believing there must be a superior number of the Confederates, moved down the river that night. The Confederates then took possession of Fort Brown without a struggle.

The Federal flag was still flying from the top of the flag pole at Fort Brown. Col. Showalter called for a volunteer to take down the Federal flag and hoist the Confederate flag in its place. Sam quickly volunteered.

The rope that manipulated the raising and lowering of the flag had been cut and it was necessary to climb the pole to the top, cut down the enemy flag and tied up the Confederate flag. With the Confederate flag under his arm, Sam climbed the pole as a squirrel would climb a tree, and made the change. As he was descending Mexicans in Matamoros discovered the change and let out a great yell.

It was now late fall or early winter of 1864. The Confederates pitched camp near where the north entrance of the old bridge across the Rio Grande is now located. A revolution was going on in Mexico at this time. Their leaders were Maximillian on one side and Juan Cortina on the other. Cortina with his army had possession of Matamoros and Maximillian was marching on to the city. A battle ensued between the two armies which lasted for several days.

Every morning when the fight would start about 9 a.m. Sam would climb a tree so as to get a better view of the two armies in combat. About the third day of the battle Sam climbed his tree as usual and soon bullets began to cut through the leaves around him and, lo! there came a considerable army of Mexicans who had crossed the river to the American side and were shooting at the Confederates. Sam could not understand this but alighted from the tree, grabbed his revolver as did other comrades, and opened fire on the Mexicans. The Mexicans ran in confusion in several directions.

Many of them jumped into the river and began swimming toward the Mexican side. These Texas Confederates, well trained with pistols, stood on the bank and shot them as they came to the surface of the water. It was estimated that about sixty men were killed.

When the flurry was over inquiry was made as to what it was all about.  It finally developed that Cortina saw that Maximillian’s forces were too strong for him, so he made a forced loan on the merchants of Matamoros and got all of their available money. He then fled across the river to the American side, attempting to escape with the money and also with his life. Cortina and a good sized band of Mexicans did escape, but Sam never knew where they went nor what became of them or the money.

Sam had a young brother, James Bishop, only sixteen years old who had voluntarily enlisted in the Confederate army. Jim violated a military regulation by crossing the river into Mexico without permission. When he returned from Matamoros he was arrested and placed in the guard house to await a court martial trial. Sam refused to stand by and see his young brother court-martialed and punished. Being an officer himself, Sam went to the guards and got their promise not to molest his brother if he walked out that night. He then told James to walk out at nine o'clock; to walk by the guards and that they would not molest him. Sam had procured a horse and saddle and advised his brother where to find them. He told Jim also to head north for his home in Bell County, to travel all night and hide during the day.

The arrangement worked perfectly. Daylight found James in the vicinity of the present location of Raymondville. He staked his tired horse where he could eat grass, took his saddle into a thicket and lay down to sleep and to rest.

In a few hours he was awakened and commanded to come out. He observed several men standing around with guns pointed at him so he promptly obeyed orders. It proved to be a band of Federal soldiers foraging for food for the Federal army. They arrested James and that night placed him on a pallet with a guard on each side. Sometime in the night James found the guards both sound asleep and quietly slipped away. Groping in the darkness he found a horse hobbled. He caught the horse, put the hobbles around his neck and straddled him bare backed.  He rode this horse the balance of the night and all next day until he came to the King Ranch, about sixty miles north. Here he found Confederate sympathizers who gave him a fresh horse and a saddle and bade him continue his journey north. He finally reached home after riding the horse down and walking many miles arriving home a short time before the close of the war. This was a horrible experience for a sixteen year old soldier boy.

The 3,000 Federal soldiers that evacuated Fort Brown when the 500 Confederates came in, had not yet been seen nor definitely located.  The supposition was that they had retreated to their gunboats somewhere near the mouth of the Rio Grande. Col. Showalter called Sam to his tent and told him to take thirty men and see if he could locate the enemy, to find out their exact location, their maneuvers, etc., and report back his findings. That pleased Sam immensely. He and his men rode off down the river all well mounted and armed with Colt Cap and Ball six shooters.

When they reached the mouth of the river they had still not seen a Yankee. They rode on up the gulf beach. They now felt sure that they would find them on Brazos Island.

A short distance before they reached Boca Chica, the entrance to Brazos Island, they came on a loose herd of horses. An idea struck Sam that they could drive these horses ahead of them and the Yankees would take them for innocent Mexicans looking after their stock. The ruse worked fine apparently. They rode up to Boca Chica, about where the old toll Bridge was located, looked over on the island, and there within forty or fifty yards of them were the Yankees resting behind breastworks of sand.

Through a spirit of mischief Sam said: “Boys, lets empty our pistols at them and then run.” Accordingly at Sam’s command to fire, thirty bullets pierced the sand breastworks of the enemy. Then “Boom!” came a cannon shot from the Yankees which knocked a tremendous hole in the sand within a few feet of them. It was not necessary for Sam to give the order to retreat. Every man put spurs to his steed and sped away while the cannon from the enemy continued to roar for sometime.  No one was hurt so Sam and his men hastily returned to their quarters in Brownsville.

Sam’s Colonel heard the cannonading and was very much alarmed. He paced restlessly in front of his tent and when Sam came near, roared at him: “What in the Hell have you been doing, Bishop?” Sam replied: “Oh, just having a little fun with those Yankees.”

Again the colonel roared, “I didn't send you there to start a fight with those Yankees. I told you to spy around, investigate the situation and report back to me. I’ll never send you out on another spying expedition.”

Several weeks later, after the colonel's anger at Sam had subsided, he called him to his tent again. “Bishop, if I should send you out on a spying expedition do you think you could use a little sense” “Yes, Colonel, I think I could,” was Sam’s meek reply. The colonel then told him that he wanted someone to go to Point Isabel and inspect the lighthouse and surroundings there. Sam replied that he would obey orders and do the job so off he rode again with his thirty men for Point Isabel, 30 miles away.

When they got within a few hundred yards of the lighthouse his men halted and suggested that it would be dangerous to approach closer, for if there were men in the lighthouse they would have the advantage and kill everyone of us. Sam agreed with his men but explained that he did not believe there was anyone in the lighthouse. He advised his men to wait while he rode on alone for closer inspection. Sam rode to the lighthouse, dismounted and ascended to the top of the lighthouse and waved to his men to come on. This was in the year 1864 and this old lighthouse still stands as a monument to pioneer transportation.

This lighthouse was erected in pioneer days before the Civil War.  Commerce in this section was carried on chiefly by boat. Boats navigated the Rio Grande for 100 miles or more and followed the San Juan River fifty miles into the interior of Mexico to Carmargo.

So Port Isabel, as it was then called, was a central distributing point for goods - hence the necessity for the lighthouse. In recent years the legislature of Texas declared the lighthouse a state park.  It has been repaired and a caretaker is now in charge. It stands today as a mute sentinel pointing to historic means of transportation and calls attention of the present day visitor to one hundred years of progress in transportation.

While in the Confederate service at Brownsville helping to keep the port open for the passage of exports into Mexico, Sam took advantage of an opportunity to visit the historic cities of Carmargo and Mier in Mexico. He went on a steamboat from Brownsville up the Rio Grande River to the mouth of the San Juan, near Rio Grand City; thence up the San Juan River to Carmargo. He returned to Brownsville by the same route.

Carmargo at that time was a prosperous city, built up by trade with the Confederate states. Mier, a more inland town, was also prosperous, but its main interest was from a historic standpoint of being the center of the famous Mier Expedition.

Matamoros at that time was reputed to have population of 40,000. In 1919 Sam visited Matamoros again and its population was less than 10,000. Later - in 1956 the population is estimated to be 55,000. Sam recognized the two Catholic churches erected more than three centuries ago, also the city's pioneer theater building.

Palm Grove, at the period of the Civil War, was the same natural beauty spot that it is now. The Confederate army camped at its entrance for one whole winter. They turned their horses loose on the peninsula and with little watching they were kept in this river bend. Grass was good and the horses fared well all winter without feed.

Trading in cotton during the war built up two other thriving towns at the mouth of the Rio Grande: Clarksville, on the Texas side of the Rio Grande and Bagdad, on the Mexican side. Cotton was freighted for hundreds of miles with lazy ox-teams to Clarkesville, where it was crossed over the river on ferry boats to Bagdad, Mexico. Cotton brought $ .40 per pound - $200.00 per bale at that time. During the past century the price of cotton ranged from $ .40 per pound to $ .05 and back again.

When Sam returned to the valley in 1918, no Clarksville nor Bagdad could be found. A hurricane wiped them off the map in 1868 and neither was ever rebuilt. Not a mark of their existence remains today.
Sam made the discovery during the Civil War that the lower Rio Grande Valley was as rich as the valley of the Nile. After returning to Bell County he reported to his friends there that he stood on the lower limb of a cotton stalk without breaking it off. His Bell County friends who were used to cotton growing waist high marveled at his statement.

Sam had now spent four years in war, and had seen service from the prison walls of Columbus, Ohio for five months; a recruiting officer running down deserters and renegades in central Texas for nine months; then a long march to the Rio Grande where he participated in preventing the blockade of the port and witnessed the last battle of the war.

Sam was very happy now in the thought of returning to his home and being once more united with his family in peace and happiness. He felt that he would be able to provide well for his family even after four long years of fighting for he had left a herd of three hundred cows on the range when he took up the fight for his country. Of course they had increased during this period and he would not grieve for his horses which had, perhaps, been used by the Confederacy.

Sam went aboard a ship at Port Isabel and sailed off for Galveston en route home. Soon after getting out of sight of land a storm began to rage. In order to ride the waves the ship was headed east and went far out into the gulf, off of its course. It was three days longer making the trip than regular schedule time.

Among the passengers on this ship were a preacher and an Irishman.  When the storm reached its height and it seemed that the fate of all would be death at the bottom of the gulf, the preacher, as might be expected, fell down upon his knees and offered a prayer to God to save the ship. The drunk Irishman stood by the mast pole and when the ship started down into the trough of the waves he would grab the pole and pull up with all his power. When the storm had subsided and all was quiet and safe, the preacher and the Irishman had quite an argument as to which one of them had saved the ship and its passengers from a watery grave. The Irishman claimed he saved the ship by pulling it up when it started down. The preacher claimed his prayer was answered from on high.

In the spring of 1865 Sam returned home. He had no way to advise his family of his coming and his appearance in the doorway of their home was Delilah's first knowledge of his arrival. His eight year old girl was hysterical at her father's return and the three and a half year old boy looked on in wonder at all the excitement caused by the appearance of this stranger. This was the first time the father had seen his son. In the days that followed their reunion Delilah gradually and reluctantly divulged to Sam the hardships she had endured; the privation she had suffered and the effort it had been to keep soul and body together during his absence.

Delilah told Sam that some of the men who had been permitted to stay home to help fight back the Indians and aid in caring for the war widows had deceived her and misused her confidence. She had loaned them corn (the staff of life in those days of almost famine on the frontier) that the corn was never returned nor accounted for. She loaned them milk cows to supply milk for their hungry children and the cows were never seen again. It was with difficulty that she kept a riding horse. Belton, twenty miles away, was the nearest market where she could buy provisions and it was necessary that she ride horseback that twenty miles to purchase a few dollars worth of sugar, coffee, etc. She would place the oldest child astride the horse behind her, and with the baby in her lap, would make the journey to Belton and return. She related to Sam how she had tried giving the money to a neighbor who had generously offered to buy what she wanted, as he had to go to Belton anyway, but she never received more than half of her money in groceries.

Preachers were exempt from the army but they were no exception to this borrowing and never paying back business. Instead of helping the war widows they took from them the things they had, such as corn, potatoes and other necessities of life.

Sam inquired about his three hundred cows and forty horses which he had left on the range when he joined the army. Imagine his feelings when Delilah told him that a certain, shouting, loud praying neighbor had driven his cattle to Kansas City and sold them! Not a cow was to be found and only a small number of horses when Sam returned.

Sam began to brood with bitter thoughts such as: “I have spent four years fighting for my country, doing not only my own part, but suffering privations and risking my life for these fellows who stayed at home under the pretense of protecting and aiding my family. Now when I return home I find them thieves and rascals. Even the preacher in whom I had every confidence. When I left home to perform my patriotic duty I left my family with plenty to support them for the duration of the war. Now I am penniless. My family has suffered for the necessities of life while these scoundrels have feasted upon my property.”

After brooding for several days Sam remarked to Delilah:  “Delilah, the war is not over as I had hoped it would be when I returned home to my family. With me it has just begun. I’ll kill the men who drove away my cattle and I’ll avenge the many atrocities they have done to you. I know now who they are and I’ll never stop until the job is finished.”

Delilah argued and plead with Sam and showed him that it would only make bad matters worse for him to pursue such a course. She plead with him to forget it and start life anew; retain his self-respect and enjoy life together. “We have had enough trouble; let's have no more of it,” Delilah pleaded.

Sam insisted that he could not live and see those contemptible curs almost daily without shooting them. Delilah suggested: “Then lets move away from them where we can live to ourselves and rear our children in honor and be removed from the environment of those we know to be degenerates.” Such argument was bound to win out and Sam started looking for a place to go.

Bitter thoughts ran through Sam’s mind. The cause for which he had been fighting for four years was lost. Those who espoused the Confederate cause were now under military rule and deprived of their citizenship.  Their substance had all been spent on the war or dissipated by thieves.  They were left in poverty, homeless and penniless with dependent families; no job; no place to go; no place to start. While in this state of mind Sam wanted to hide out from the world as did General Sam Houston when his beautiful young bride of three months deserted him while he was Governor of Tennessee.

After a short time Sam found a place that he could acquire which would give him perfect seclusion from all mankind. The place was given to him because the owner thought it worthless. In the summer or 1866 he took over this pre-emption, consisting of one hundred sixty acres of land situated on a mountain in the heart of a cedar brake near the forks of the Cowhouse and Leon Rivers in Bell County, Texas. There was a small log house with a side room and a crude chimney. The cracks between the logs were chinked with sticks and daubed with mud. It had a puncheon floor and a roof made of clapboards.

Nearby a spring of pure cold water flowed constantly from under a cliff. Under this cliff a spring house was built where the milk and butter were kept cool - no artificial ice in those days. It was here near this spring under the shade of a huge oak tree that the family washing was done at least once a week. The clothes were boiled in a pot of water; then lifted to a block with a stick, then beat with a paddle and thrown into a tub of clean water for rinsing. The clothes were then rubbed on the old fash-ioned ridged rub board with plenty of home-made lye soap; rinsed several times and hung on a vine or a bush to dry. No clothes lines in those days.

There was a small field of about eight acres in cultivation and a nice young peach orchard of bearing trees. Sam managed for a yoke of oxen and an old wagon.

It was here in the cedar brakes, three or four miles from the nearest neighbor and thirteen miles from the then small village of Belton, (the nearest place that groceries could be bought) that Sam located to rear his children and to face the gloomy future of life without money, property or position. But he had a peace of mind, an isolation from crooks, thieves and rascals, and no more of the horrors of war.

This was the same place where, four years before, he found the five deserters from the army, and persuaded them to become soldiers.

With an ax, a hoe, a plow and a yoke of oxen Sam cultivated his eight acres of land in corn and vegetables and did all the necessary hauling about the farm. Every ear of corn, every bean and potato was carefully saved for food for his family which consisted of his wife and three children, Jane, a girl of eight years, Sam B. Jr., four and the writer James J., an infant. Any morsel of food that the family could not use went to the chickens, the hogs or the milk cows.

Delilah did all the cooking on the fireplace. They could not afford even a wood cook stove. The cooking utensils consisted of an oven with a lid in which sweet potatoes and corn bread were baked, a skillet with three legs with a long handle in which biscuits were cooked when they could get flour, (and then only for breakfast.) Also there was a pot in which the stewing was done. This work was hard and very monotonous especially in the heat of summer.

Pioneers in Texas had various ways of lighting their homes. Torches made by lighting rich cedar or pine knots placed in the fireplace were not uncommon. A popular and inexpensive way to light the kitchen and the living room was a torch made as follows: Extract the pith from a  firm corn cob and insert a large twine thread or cotton cloth in the hole. Trim the cob to fit the mouth of a snuff bottle. Fill the bottle with hog lard and insert the wick, making the cob fit tightly.  When the lard had thoroughly soaked the wick it could be lighted with a match. This made a very good light and was convenient to carry from room to room and to set upon a table.

A more modern and improved method was by the use of the tallow candle.  Pioneers did not buy candles but manufactured them at home. They were made of tallow and beeswax in equal amounts, melted and mixed. Delilah had candle molds in which this mixture was poured, molding six at a time. The molds were made of tin and six of them were fastened together. Each had a small opening at one end which was the top of the candle. A string for a wick was first placed in each mold and held tight at the top with a stick. Then the hot liquid was poured into the molds and hung up to cool. When thoroughly cooled the outside of the molds was warmed and the candles removed. These were inexpensive because both tallow and beeswax were easily obtained at home. Honey bees were found in hollow trees and caves everywhere. The honey in the comb was removed from the hive; the honey extracted for food and the comb carefully saved to make candles or to sell. Tallow was obtained from beeves, fattened on the range, and of course was plentiful.

Candle sticks or holders were made with a flat plate shaped bottom for convenience to set on the table and to catch any melted portion of the candle that might run down. This must be saved for the next molding.
Matches

Matches were a luxury. One box searchlight size cost twenty five cents, but twenty five cents was hard to get. There was not so great a demand for matches then as now, for cigarettes had not come into use. 

However, real economy had to be practiced constantly to save the matches. A fire was kept in the chimney day and night, winter and summer. Before retiring at night the coals of fire were carefully covered with ashes to preserve the fire until next morning. Remember all the cooking was done on the fireplace three times a day, so the coals had to be kept alive to save the precious matches.

One morning before sunrise a man appeared at our home with a tin bucket in hand. He said they forgot to cover the coals with ashes and the fire went out. They had no matches and it was thirteen miles to Belton, the nearest place matches could be bought. Sam placed live coals of fire in his bucket, placed some ashes over the coals. The man walked back home, one mile, prepared to cook breakfast.

Making coffee was quite different from the present method. The only coffee that could be bought was green and cost one dollar for three pounds. A small amount was put in a skillet and placed on coals of fire. It had to be stirred constantly to keep it from burning. A half hour or more was required to parch the coffee to the proper stage.  Then it was placed in the coffee mill and ground each day as needed; then placed in a pot and boiled. Children were never allowed to drink coffee and elderly people drank it only for breakfast.

Sometimes these pioneer frontiersmen were unable to get coffee and then corn was parched, ground and boiled as a substitute for coffee.

Most of the clothing was made at home. Men wore jeans pants and hickory shirts. It took two and one half to three yards of jeans cloth to make a pair of pants and most men had two pair. The cloth cost seventy five cents per yard. Thus the material for a pair of pants costs $2.25.  Material for a coat cost about the same. Delilah cut out the pattern for both pants and shirts and sewed them by hand with a needle and thread. The writer was fourteen years old before a sewing machine was brought into the home.

Women's dresses were made mostly of calico that cost three to five cents per yard. Six to seven yards would make a dress which cost twenty to thirty cents per dress. Women wore their dresses to their shoe heels. Had a woman in those days worn her dress half knee high she would have been the talk of the community.
A little later a better grade of ladies dress goods was stocked by the stores and the more prosperous women bought higher priced goods for dresses. But as cloth got higher so did the dresses.

Delilah made all these garments for the entire family. She also carded cotton and wool; made it into rolls then spun the rolls into thread.  The thread was wound from the broach into hanks and from hanks wound into balls. When it reached this stage it was ready to knit into socks and stockings. Delilah sat up late at night knitting by candle light, or perhaps from the light of the blazing fire. The writer never possessed a store bought pair of socks until he was about thirty years of age.

As time rolled on and Sam and Delilah toiled and labored and economized, they began to get their heads above the tide of poverty. Sam raised good crops of corn, beans, sweet potatoes, watermelons and peaches.  When the melons and peaches ripened he found that his friends were numerous. He never sold a melon or a peach, but the surplus was consumed by his neighbors who were not so fortunate in producing. Some were fed to hogs.

A few cattle and horses each year were added to his possessions and occasionally a steer or a colt was sold for cash to procure the necessities of life that he could not raise at home; such as coffee, sugar, salt, etc.
The most profitable crop that Sam raised was hogs. He had an unlimited open range and there was an abundance of acorns and cedar berries almost every year. In the fall of the year when acorns and berries began to ripen and fall from the trees hogs would get fat. Just a little corn was used to finish them for butchering when cold weather came.

Sam would kill and dress from ten to thirty fat hogs each year weighing from two hundred to three hundred pounds each. They had cost him practically nothing - no money investment at all. A short time before killing time Sam’s neighbors, who for various reasons had to buy their meat, would engage what they needed from him. The price was $.035 per pound, dressed. The purchaser was to help in killing and dressing the hogs when a suitable cold day appeared. Hog killing was lots of fun but hard work for everyone, including the women and children. The latter’s job was to rid the entrails of the fat and prepare dinner for the entire hog killing crew. By night, ten or fifteen fat dressed hogs would be swinging in the air, suspended on a gambrel across a pole.

The next thing was to ascertain the weight of each hog that was sold.  There were no scales that would draw over one hundred pounds. From experience it had been learned that a hog's head weighed about one tenth of the whole hog. Accordingly, they would cut off the head and weigh it on the small steelyards and multiply that weight by ten to ascertain the weight of the hog. For instance, if the head weighed twenty pounds, the whole hog weighed two hundred pounds and that was the weight at which it was figured to the purchaser at $.035 per pound.

The next day was as busy as the first. The meat was cut up into hams, shoulders and middlings. The bones were extracted and the meat salted down in a huge wooden box. It remained in this box for thirty days or more when another busy day rolled around. The meat was taken out of the box, strings made of bear grass were passed through one edge of each piece, and a loop tied. A stick was passed through the loop, several pieces of meat being placed on one stick. Then it was hung to the joists of the smokehouse. For several days a dense smoke was kept under the hanging meat to keep away flies and to thoroughly dry the surface of the meat. This process was kept up for days and sometimes weeks to thoroughly cure the meat.

Sam usually had a surplus of bacon and lard which he sold in the spring for eight to ten cents per pound. Delilah sold butter at ten cents per pound and fryers at 15 cents each. Hens were 25 cents each.

Time passed on. The children grew up and needed the opportunity of a school. No public schools were in Texas yet. Private schools and academies were established in districts sufficiently populated to maintain them, but no school of any kind was within the reach of Sam.  His community had settled up a little, so the neighbors, those living within a radius of ten or twelve miles who were interested, consulted together and agreed to build a school house and hire a teacher. They did so. The location was agreed upon and was four miles from Sam’s mountain home. The citizens assembled there and erected a house. It was built of posts set on end and about eight or ten feet high. Its size was twelve by fourteen feet. The roof was made of clapboards and the ground was the floor. A few large trees, eight feet in height were split in the middle and the face hewed smooth with a broad ax or an adze. Two holes were bored in each end and legs placed in the holes. This made the seats on which the children were to sit while being instructed in the knowledge found in the old Blue back Speller.

The probable cost in money of this building and seating did not exceed $2.00. The windows and the door were merely wooden shutters. The only cash outlay for this schoolhouse was the nails. How does that compare with the cost of a school building today?

This institution of learning was the first one erected in the beautiful Cowhouse Valley. This was about the year 1866. Janie, my sister and Sam B., my brother, received their first schooling in this chicken coop of a house under the tutelage of Bird Clements and one Professor Turner. Janie and Sam Jr. rode a paint pony named “Jago” four miles to this seminary of learning and paid about $1.00 per month each for tuition. The school term usually lasted three months: June, July and August.  During the balance of the year the services of the children must be had on the farm, hoeing in the spring and picking cotton in the fall. A living was more important than education in those days, besides, Pa and Ma have gotten along without an education - so can the children.

This school was named Brookhaven. It served the community four years.

Early one Saturday morning in the summer of 1870, Sam yoked his oxen and hitched them to the old creaking wagon. He and Delilah had planned the previous day to visit Delilah's sister, Martha Scoggin, who lived near Sugarloaf, about fifteen miles away. The entire family climbed into this wagon. Sam and Delilah each had a chair to sit on but the three children sat down in the floor of the wagon bed. It was a tiresome journey - fifteen miles at a speed of three miles per hour.

When they arrived at Martha's late in the evening, Sam was told that Dave Elms had just returned from up the trail, where he had driven a herd of cattle to Kansas City, and that Dave had brought back a new horse wagon with a spring seat and also a set of harness for horses.  Sam mounted a horse and rode over to Dave's, a distance of a mile or so to hear Dave's recital of his trip up the trail with cattle, and especially to see that curiosity in Texas - a horse wagon.

Sam was so delighted with this beautiful painted wagon that he bought it on the spot. He gave Dave eight twenty dollar gold pieces for the outfit - $160. The horses were hitched to the wagon and it was driven on to Martha's where the two families climbed into it and took their first ride in a horse wagon with a spring seat. Sam was now looked upon by his neighbors as a prosperous aristocrat because he was the only man in all the community who had a horse wagon. The writer, then four years old, remembers the fright and excitement when the team went into a trot on a down grade.

Evidently, wagons and harness in those days were made for durability for Sam used that wagon and harness for over thirty years. He earned the money for this expenditure by building stone chimneys for newcomers and by selling pork at 3 ½ cents per pound that he had raised and fattened on mast. Sam charged $1.00 per foot in height for building chimneys. A helper to carry stone and mortar was furnished by the home owner. Sam built a chimney for every newcomer over a period of twelve or fifteen years.

In the year 1871, the first little old school house was abandoned and a new and more elaborate one erected. The new building was located about two miles nearer Sam’s house and named Cedar Grove. An educated man named Professor C. H. Davis had wandered down to this part of Texas from New York state. He was elected as the first teacher and continued to teach successful school for four or five years, until his death.
As a teacher, he attracted pupils for ten miles away who rode horseback to be instructed by this renowned professor. Many young men and women twenty to twenty five years of age attended this school to receive instruction in the Blue back Speller, but the main attraction was penmanship, reading, arithmetic, and geography which had been added to the course of study. McDuffey’s Readers, Ray's Elementary Arithmetic and Maurey’s Geography were the text books used. Slates and pencils were used for figuring. Tablets, lead pencils and blackboards were still unknown for school use.

The Cedar Grove school house was sixteen by twenty four feet and constructed of rawhide lumber. It had a floor, a chimney and glass windows. The seats were made of slabs with wooden pegs for legs and some of them had board backs. This building cost but a few dollars in money, perhaps $20.00 but it cost much in labor. Every citizen in the community for miles around contributed labor.

An enterprising fellow by the name of Judge O’Hair owned a flour mill, a cotton gin and a saw mill on the Cowhouse River nearby. So it was decided that the citizens in the vicinity would cut and haul logs to this sawmill, have them sawed into lumber with which to construct the school house.

Accordingly, men cut virgin trees of oak, cedar, cottonwood, etc., loaded them on ox wagons and transported them to the mill. The mill man took a part of the lumber as his pay for sawing it. The lumber was then hauled to the building site and the citizens contributed all the labor to build the house. In this way labor almost completely built the Cedar Grove school house. Sam, with a helper, quarried rock and built the chimney. All three of Sam’s children received primary education in this rawhide lumber building.

This Cedar Grove schoolhouse with a little repairing and some additions served the community thirty years.
The writer attended his first school there at the age of six and each year for ten years.

The terms lasted two or three months each year - all pay schools.  After the writer had attended college three years he came back to Cedar Grove as a teacher for eight years. The school population had grown to one hundred or more pupils. Public money was now available and a school term lengthened to seven months per year.

For ten or twelve years after the Civil War, horse thieves, cow thieves, and desperadoes ran rife in Bell and adjacent counties and in all parts of Texas until it became more densely populated. The county was sparsely settled and peace officers were few. It was impossible for the constabulary to prevent stealing and murder. Consequently the good and law abiding citizens took the law into their own hands to a great extent to protect themselves against outlaws. They were secretly organized but cooperated with the sheriffs in the enforcement of law.

Sam’s children would frequently see their father counseling in a low tone of voice with some neighbor and about dark he would saddle his horse, buckle a six shooter around his waist and ride away. He would be gone for, perhaps two nights and a day. The children inquired in vain where he had gone, but never until they were grown and the country had become civilized did they know what it was all about. Sam and his friends chased such notorious desperadoes as John Wesley Hardin, Bill Longley, Dee Bailey, and Sam Bass.

On one occasion late one afternoon a strange man drove a wagon by Sam’s house, leading behind it a neighbor's fine horse. The children knew the animal well for it had ranged about the place for some time.  Sam was not at home at this time but soon returned from the community store. The children told him what they had seen. Sam hurriedly belted on his pistol, mounted his horse and proceeded in pursuit of the man.  He soon returned with the man under arrest. Later it was known that when Sam overtook the culprit and demanded his surrender, the man offered him $100 to let him go, but that was no inducement to Sam to let a horse thief go.

Neighbors were notified that Sam had a horse thief in his custody at his home and needed help to guard him through the night. The help was forthcoming and two armed men guarded him until morning. Early next day they proceeded with the man to Belton, the county seat, and lodged him in jail. The grand jury and criminal court happened to be in session so the man was indicted, tried before a jury and sentenced that very day to the pen for two years. This was long before the suspended sentence law was in vogue, which has become a mockery of legal punishment for crime in many instances.

The Civil War closed in 1865 but Texas was held under military rule until 1878. During that time those who had participated in the Confederacy were disfranchised - not allowed to vote or hold office. The officers of the state and county were either appointed by Federal military authority or elected by carpetbagger unionists whom the Confederates had fought for four years.

This state of affairs precipitated a bitter feeling between the officers on one side and the main population composed of ex- confederates on the other. However, in 1872 the necessary procedure was had to let Texas back into the Union and permit the Southerners to vote. The first vote they had for governor resulted in an overwhelming majority for Richard Coke as against E.J. Davis, the incumbent in the governor's office. E.J. Davis refused to relinquish the office to Coke, claiming illegal voting, whereupon war was narrowly averted in Texas again.

General Hardeman, who lived in Austin, quickly proceeded with armed volunteers to eject Davis from the capitol and seat Coke. As fast as the citizens around about heard of the situation bands of volunteers organized and rushed toward Austin to the support of General Hardeman.

Sam raised a company of about thirty men at Sparta, in Bell County, and with all available fire arms rushed toward Austin to get into the fray. They lived seventy miles away. After a hard day's ride reached Round Rock, some twenty miles from Austin. There they were informed that it was all over. Davis had evacuated the capitol and Coke was seated as governor.

General Hardeman stationed his three or four hundred men about two blocks from the capitol. He told his men to stand ready for action while he walked into the governor's office alone. He told E.J. Davis that his men had come to seat Richard Coke as governor. He told Davis to vacate the office at once or you and your three hundred guards will be killed. Hardeman walked back to his command, but before he got there, Davis was seen walking away followed by his black guards.

Richard Coke was immediately escorted into the capitol and administered the oath of office as governor - the first elected governor after the end of the Civil War in 1865. I remember the incident.

In the summer of 1871, after living in the old log shack with a puncheon floor for over five years, Sam began the work of building a new home.  The site selected was about four hundred yards away on an elevation and surrounded by a huge oak trees. His plan was to build corn cribs and lots first and then begin on the house. The cribs and the main part of the house were to be built of cedar logs. A large cedar brake of virgin timber was close by so it required labor, not money, for the greater part of the structure.

Sam cut all the logs necessary for the buildings and dragged them out of the brake to the building site. He then hewed the logs on two sides and they were ready to notch down and lay into the structure.  It was necessary to have the assistance of two or three men to place the logs in proper position. Not having money to hire help Sam exchanged work with his neighbors. He soon got the double cribs, with a driveway between them, erected and cut small cedar poles for rafters. When all the rafters were in place the next thing was to procure boards for the roof. He went into the forest with an ax, a cross-cut saw and a froe. He cut down the huge trees, sawed them into cuts two and half feet long, then rived boards from these cuts. In this way, Sam made all the boards to cover this large barn and the house. It required six thousand such boards to do the job.

After the barn was finished work was started on the house. The main room, constructed of logs, was sixteen by sixteen feet with side room extensions on three sides and an attic for sleeping quarters. The side rooms required some lumber as did the floor. He cut oak logs, hauled them to the sawmill and had the lumber sawed. The mill man took a part of the lumber as his toll for the sawing. Thus no money changed hands.
Thus Sam built all these improvements, including a chimney and the yard and lot fences, with his own labor. He began the work in the summer of 1871 and finished in January 1873. This was a great undertaking and achievement for only one man. He did not invest over $50.00 cash in the barn and house, and that was principally for cut post-oak nails which cost 5 cents per pound. These nails are not seen on the market now. He also bought a few glass windows which he purchased in Waco, forty five miles away. Later, when the government built the Belton Dam it took the Bishop farm, but the house was reserved by the owner and moved thirteen miles to Belton, where it has become a curio.

In the winter of 1873 and before he had completed his new house, Sam placed an order for new bedsteads and chairs. There was a man about seven miles away who made furniture, especially chairs and bedsteads.  His shop was in a small canyon that opened out into Cowhouse Valley. 

In this canyon grew an abundance of virgin walnut trees of all sizes.  From this forest he selected material for his crude factory. Sam’s order consisted of six straight chairs, and one rocking chair and two bedsteads, also a trundle bed for the children. This trundle bed could be rolled under the large bed during the day and rolled out at night at bedtime.

The chairs were plain with bottoms made of rawhide strings woven across from round to round. The rock had arm rests and was exceedingly comfortable.  The two walnut beds consisted of four posts with side rails and head and foot boards fastened in the posts with screw bolts. There were no slats but instead, rope cord was entwined from rail to rail. These beds complete, costs $3.50 each. They were the best beds in all the community. The straight chairs cost $1.00 each, and the rocker $2.50.  So for about $15.00 his new home was furnished with new beds and chairs, all made of walnut.

Sam sold dressed hogs to procure the money for the furniture. The writer, who was six years old at the time, went with his father to bring the furniture home. The ground and the trees were covered with ice and snow. He went in an ox wagon and it took most of a day to make the round trip. The writer got a great thrill out of the trip for three reasons: First, he was out with his daddy in the cold. Second, the snow and ice made brighter by the clear sunshine was a picture he had never before seen. Third, the thought of bring home new chairs and beds was most exciting.

Sam was raised in the saddle and his vocation was herding cattle and roping horses until he was twenty nine years of age, when he went to war and left his fine herd of cattle and horses on the range. He liked this business and enjoyed life on the open prairie, pursuing his vocation.

After the war was over and his stock all gone, after, financial losses and a dejected spirit drove him into seclusion where he started life all over again in the mountains. He was never satisfied to try to farm, for it was a business he knew nothing about. Each day he yearned to get back into the stock business. He frequently discussed with Delilah the idea of taking up his beloved vocation of cattle raising again. He suggested going West where ranch land was easily acquired at that time, and try to get back into the business he knew and loved.

Delilah did not like the idea at all and reminded Sam that they now had two boys and that she did not want them to be reared in the association of cow men. She argued that most cattle men branded every maverick they could find and that she was afraid her boys, too, might be influenced by brand mavericks, and thus become thieves. These boys, Delilah insisted, must be reared honest God fearing Christian gentle-men. So there, on that rugged mountain, Sam and Delilah continued to live and toil until J.J., their youngest child, was a grown man.

In 1878, Janie got married. This left only the two boys, Sam B. Jr., now sixteen years of age, and James J., twelve years of age. The boys were large enough to help about the farming, plowing and harvesting crops and do many other things incident to farm life. Schools were getting better and terms longer. Instead of three months in the year, they were now five to six months. Sam saw that his boys took advantage of every school. He did not neglect his own education either. Being reared in pioneer Texas at a time when there were no schools, Sam had no opportunity to acquire an education from schools, yet he had a keen desire to know what was going on in the world. He learned to read in some way and was a subscriber to the first paper ever published in Bell County, The Belton Journal, from its first issue just after the Civil War to the time of his death in 1919, more than fifty years.

The Belton Journal was a four page weekly paper and was edited in its pioneer days by a Mr. Davenport, the father of our fellow townsman, Judge Harbert Davenport of Brownsville, Texas. This paper reached its readers in the rural districts sometimes after it had been off the press for a week. There were no rural mail carriers then, not even a star route in many sections. In such communities all the citizens had an understanding that when any one of them went to town, ten to twenty miles away, they would bring back with them all the mail for the entire community and leave it at Mr. Frank Smith's home, a centrally located place for all the community. Few citizens received more than one letter per month so the job of handling all the mail was not a very laborious one. This condition prevailed for twenty years from 1855 to 1875, when a star route was procured for the neighborhood in which Sam resided.

Shortly after this newspaper became available, The Atlanta Constitution expanded its circulation to cover many locations of all Texas. It was first a semi-monthly, but later became a weekly. It was usually two weeks off the press before it was received in the rural districts.  After it was ready it was carefully filed away for future reference.  Next came the Louisville Courier Journal. It too was read and carefully preserved. These three newspapers constituted Sam’s reading matter and through them, he kept well posted on local, state and national affairs.

During the Civil War, Sam came into the possession of a pair of tooth forceps. Shortly after he moved to the mountain in 1866, his neighbors learned that he had these forceps, so when they had an aching tooth, they would go to Sam to have him extract it. There were no real dentists in the county so Sam fell heir to the job of extracting teeth for the entire neighborhood to relieve suffering. As the country settled up more people came to him to have teeth pulled. When the patient asked him what his charge was, the answer was always: “Nothing.  If you can stand it, I can.” During a period of fifteen years, until real dentists appeared in the county, Sam relieved many a person from the pain of toothache.

One day Sam took the toothache himself and had no dentist to rely upon. After a night of intense suffering, he arose by good daylight grabbed his forceps, sat down on the door step and proceeding to extract a jaw tooth. He looked at it for a moment and then remarked: “I pulled the wrong tooth.” Thereupon he immediately extracted another jaw tooth and after carefully examining it, remarked:  “I got the one that was giving me trouble that time.” This incident illustrated the great strength of nerve which Sam possessed.

In 1878, when Sam was about forty six years old, he had an accident.  The boys came home from school one evening and found their father in bed. They had never seen him in bed from sickness and were quite excited. They learned that while he was cutting wood for the stove, a cedar stick flew up and hit him in the eye. The pain was severe and the nearest doctor was in Belton, thirteen miles away. He endured the pain all night and early next morning saddled his horse and rode to Belton. There was no eye specialist there so he consulted Dr. Ghent, the leading medical doctor. Dr. Ghent examined the eye carefully but could find nothing in it, so he gave Sam opiates to relieve the pain and Sam returned home the same day.

The eye did not get any better so he decided to go to Austin to the nearest eye specialist, a distance of seventy miles. He started early and rode to Round Rock the first day, covering fifty miles. By nine o'clock the next day he reached Austin and presented himself to the eye specialist. Examining the eye thoroughly with a magnifying glass, the doctor found nothing in it. He prescribed a treatment of opiates to ease the pain and Sam started on his road home. It took him three days to make the round trip and no good seemed to come of it. He continued to suffer day and night.

Some days later, Delilah's sister, Rena Elms, who lived at Sugar Loaf fifteen miles away, came to see Sam. She examined his eye very carefully and told him she could see a splinter in the eye. With the aid of a needle she extracted the splinter. The wound soon healed and Sam had fairly good vision in the injured eye, but for the balance of his life, he had one black eye and one blue eye. This is another example of the hardships of a pioneer.

After Sam and his two boys had laid by the crops for the season and had a little time to spare before harvesting, Sam told the boys that he would take them to Austin to see the capitol. The three cut a hundred cedar fence posts to haul along, thinking they might sell them to some prairie farmer and thus make the expenses of the trip. At the end of the first day's journey they succeeded in selling the posts for $10.00 which was more money then they needed for the trip.

The second day they reached the city of Austin and gazed with admiration at its beautiful capitol building. That building was destroyed by fire five years later and the present capitol building was erected in its place some time later. The new building was begun in 1883 and completed in 1888 an did not cost the taxpayers a dime. It was built by a syndicate in exchange for three million acres of unoccupied land in the panhandle of  Texas.

The three sightseers then visited Barton Springs and the insane asylum.  This was an opportunity that few boys in Texas could boast of at this time for there were no railroads nor automobiles to travel and few people ever went beyond the limits of the county in which they were born.

The year 1879 is known by old timers as the dry year. Practically no corn was raised any where in the state. Farmers had to manage some way to buy corn for bread and to feed their teams through the winter and for seed to plant in the spring until a crop could be produced.

While the corn crop was a failure, the cotton crop was good and the price also good. With the aid of a few yearling, which most farmers could sell, and the good price for cotton, enough money was obtained to buy corn.

Waco was the nearest market to sell cotton for cash. Early in September, Sam and his boys had picked and ginned a bale of cotton, so they loaded it on the ox wagons, hooked Ol’ Bell and Brandy to it and pulled out for Waco, forty five miles away, to market one bale of cotton.

It took nearly a week to make the round trip. There were other things in mind besides marketing the cotton. The Cotton Belt Railroad had just been completed into Waco and Sam wanted his boys to see a railroad and locomotive. This was a great sight for the boys but no more interesting than the old suspension bridge across the Brazos River (which is still in use). This trip afforded the boys plenty to talk about for the balance of their lives.

The corn crop failure caused many merchants to fail in their business, and a general condition of lawlessness took a new hold. Bands of robbers were prevalent throughout the state and notoriously bad in the vicinity of Waco, where many farmers went with their money in their pockets to buy corn. Late in the fall a group of Cowhouse farmers made up a purse sufficient to buy a carload of shelled corn. Two men rode to Waco and placed the order, agreeing to pay $1.00 per bushel upon arrival. The corn had to come from Missouri and by the time it arrived in Waco, many farmers had been halted on the road just before reaching Waco, and relieved of their hard earned money that was going for corn.

Sam and his comrades did not propose to be robbed of their corn money so when they started for Waco they were prepared to fight. They loaded Winchesters, shotguns, and six shooters into their wagons and drove their ten or twelve wagons close together and all camped at night together. With this precaution they were unmolested and returned home with their corn safely and the anxiety of their families was relieved.

In 1882 the Santa Fe Railroad extended its line from Temple west through Belton an on to Lampasas. Sam and his boys got a contract to cut cedar logs and deliver them to the railroad company at Belton. These logs were used for piling for bridges along the new railroad. Sam was made manager of the crew of a dozen men employed to cut the logs. He would mark such trees as to meet the railroad company's requirements.
These men were paid ten cents for each tree cut. Sam had some extra time on his hands, and being an expert ax man, he used that extra time cutting trees. Besides the $1.50 a day as foreman, he earned as much more cutting trees.

The writer was fourteen years of age. He was awarded the job of dragging the logs to an open place accessible to wagons. With a mule, a single tree and a chain, he snaked the logs out of the brake. For this work he received ten cents for each log which netted him about $2.00 per day.

S.B. Bishop, (Sam Jr.), now eighteen years of age was given the job of hauling the logs to Belton, twelve miles distant. He received three and a half cents per lineal foot and earned an average of $5.00 per day.

The twelve ax men camped near the Bishop home. They purchased their food supply from Delilah. She supplied them with the following articles of food: Butter, lard, bacon 10 cents per pound, eggs 10 cents per dozen, sweet milk 20 cents per gallon. During their stay she netted $100.00 or more. So each member of the family earned money out of the railroad piling job. All together we received a total of $350.00 all profit.
We did well with our contract and made quite a little money. With this extra money and the money we received from a good cotton crop the same year, Sam felt he was a little ahead financially for the first time since the Civil War. That fall Sam harvested sixteen bales of cotton and sold it at ten cents per pound - $50.00 per bale, netting $800.00. The family made and harvested the crop without any hired help so the $800.00 was clear profit. Accordingly, he suggested that the boys go to college. Delilah, mother like, was delighted and plans were started immediately to send the boys to Salado College.

January 1, 1883, the two boys entered school at old Salado College, which at that time, was one of the best institutions of learning in Texas. Sam felt an especial interest in this school for he had helped cut and lay the stone into the building when it was being constructed before the Civil War, 1859.

Sam rented a small house in Salado for $5.00 per month and Delilah moved there with the boys, while Sam stayed on the farm and kept things going. Delilah had a two-fold motive in this plan. One was to help in the necessary economy to insure the finances. The other motive which was uppermost in her mind was to be with her boys. She wanted to know that they properly applied themselves in school and to see that they had the proper social environment to lead them in the paths of rectitude.

So, for the next two years, Sam lived on the farm alone while Delilah lived with the boys, while they pursued their studies at Salado College.  This was a sacrifice that neither Sam nor Delilah ever regretted.  The social, moral and intellectual influence thrown around their boys while attending this college, were the best Texas afforded and gave the boys a foundation from which to shape their lives.

After two years of school at Salado College, the family was reunited back on the farm, here to work for two more years. Then the boys left home to take up the profession of school teaching. Delilah's health began to fail and with only the two sons a long distance from town, a doctor or church, they made plans to move west to a higher altitude, where doctors had advised them to go for Delilah's health.

A neighbor and friend, Bill Roberson, had just returned from a hunting trip in the mountains of New Mexico. He related a glowing description of the country, praising it in strong terms, declaring he was going to move there in the near future. He advised Sam to sell his mountain home and go with him. With the hope of improving Delilah's health, and the prospects of a good stock country, Sam agreed to go.

After a few months he sold his home and acquired a nice herd of two hundred head of cattle. He procured such wagons, teams and other equipment needed to make the move. Sam B. Jr. decided to throw his possessions into the herd and accompany his parents on the trip and aid in the new enterprise of stock raising in New Mexico.

The household goods and all heavy articles that would not be needed while traveling were placed in a big wagon drawn by two yoke of oxen.  Bows were placed in the staples and a heavy sheet spread over them and tied down to the wagon body.

About the first of May, 1888, they proceeded to San Saba to join Mr. Roberson who had a similar outfit.

From San Saba, San Angelo was the first objective, thence on to Midland on the plains. Nothing unusual occurred until they passed Midland.  At Midland, they learned it was ninety miles to the Pecos River at a point where Carlsbad is now located, and that there were only two places on the route where stock water could be obtained. They rested at Midland, purchased a supply of provisions and obtained full information about the route.

There was practically no road and they were directed by ravines and other land marks to proceed forty miles to the first ranch and water.  The heavy ox wagon carried ten gallon kegs of water tied to the side of the bed and each of the two horse wagons had five gallon kegs filled with water before leaving Midland.

They left Midland about noon one day after giving the cattle all the water they would drink, and drove hard all afternoon, covering twelve to fifteen miles. They camped for the night and everything looked lovely.
Arising next morning at daylight, the women prepared breakfast while some of the men yoked the oxen and hitched them to the wagons, and others caught horses and saddled them ready to go. Breakfast was hurriedly eaten so the cattle could be put on the move for the remaining twenty five miles to go before reaching water.

When the cattle were rounded up and counted they found twenty head missing, also a yoke of oxen belonging to a man who had fallen in with them at Midland to accompany them across the plains. This family consisted of the man, his wife and a baby.

This was a real misfortune. They could not stop for the cattle and horses had to have water. They disliked to move on and leave the lost cattle without hunting for them, yet there was no time to waste. The traveler who had fallen in with them could not go farther because his team of oxen was gone, so they agreed on a plan. The drivers of the herd would proceed with the cattle with all possible dispatch.  The ox teams likewise would follow. Delilah, with a wagon and horse team would remain in camp. Sam B. Jr. and Henry Doss, one of the cowboys, and the stranded traveler would hunt the cattle that had strayed away.

Everyone proceeded as planned, thinking the lost cattle and the travelers oxen would be found in a few hours. Then Delilah would drive on and catch the herd before night while S. B. and Henry Doss would drive the recovered cattle.

Accordingly, taking divergent direction in pursuit of the lost cattle, the three rode off over the plains. They rode hard until noon, when they returned to camp for lunch and reported there wasn't a hoof to be found. Of course, Delilah received the news with disappointment.  She had been sitting in the wagon all morning with the traveler's wife and baby and the shepherd dog to keep her company. She began to realize she was strand-ed on the plains without a team, for the horses were being ridden on the hunt.

Water was getting low and it was twenty five miles to the nearest water or ranch. She wondered why the boys did not return with the cattle, as she wondered, anxiety grew. After serving lunch, the tired thirsty horses  were rested and the search resumed. After riding until sundown they returned with the same discouraging story.

That night the women and baby retired in the wagon while the men slept under the wagon on a quilt with the faithful dog at their side. The night was dark and lonely and the day had been one dire disappointment. What would Sam and the others think when Delilah failed to overtake them? Had she missed her route or become suddenly ill? To add to all this, the coyotes kept up a constant howl and finally started a fight with the dog within a few feet of the wagon. However, the long night passed by, but the thoughts and state of mind of all parties in each of the separated groups can only be imagined.

The next morning the search was abandoned and Delilah and her companion prepared to move on. Water and food were almost exhausted. From the ten gallon keg, they gave each of the horses a portion. Sam B. Jr., through his generosity, gave the traveler his horse, told him to put his wife and baby on the horse and hit the trail back to Midland.  The stranger thanked him and agreed that if he ever saw him again or was able, he would pay $40.00 for the horse. So the stranger put his wife and baby on the horse, while he walked. They were never seen again. Delilah and the two boys hurriedly drove on west, following the trail made by the herd the day before. Sam and his party had reached the ranch house and plenty of water. About the same hour that Delilah and the boys started west, Sam started back to find out what had happened to his family. They met near noon on the plains and each related his story, relieving the strenuous tension and anxiety of the last thirty six hours.

The next morning they were off again with a thirty mile drive ahead to the Pecos River. Alkali lakes were along the road and the cattle had to be steered away from the clear and apparently good water. Many persons in earlier days had drank this water and almost lost their lives. At mid afternoon they reached the Pecos River and found it up.

About four or five miles before coming to the River, the cattle scented the water and quickened their pace. Soon they went into a trot. Cowboys got in front of them trying to hold them back, but with little success.  The thirsty animals plunged into the swollen stream, satisfied their thirst, then swam to the other side. Without any loss they crossed the herd and the heavy wagons through the swift waters and camped on the opposite side for the night.

As soon as they could reach a post office, Sam wrote to a merchant at Midland where he had purchased supplies and revealed to him the incident of losing twenty head of cattle. He requested the merchant to do what he could to recover the cattle, and if he succeeded, to sell them and send him the money.

About eight months later he received a check from the merchant for over $200.00 with the explanation that he had not only recovered the cattle, but that the thieves who had stolen them had been sent to prison. He explained further that rustling cattle from herds passing through was a common occurrence and that the officers were constantly on the lookout for such thieves.

A short time later, as strange as it may seem, S. B.  Jr. received a money order for $40.00 in payment for the horse he let the stranger have. These two coincidences prove that there were honest men in those days.

The party was now west of the Pecos and nearing their destination at the foothills of the Alamagorda Mountains. These mountains, rising high into the clear sky, could easily be seen in the distance eighty miles to the west. After three more days the journey was ended. They reached their goal, pitched camp and immediately began preparation to spend the winter there.

Mr. Roberson had already secured 160 acres of land on which there was a spring furnishing plenty of stock water. There was a dugout on the place into which he moved his family. Sam secured a dugout nearby and moved in for the winter.

It is now December 1888. The hired hands all headed back to Texas except Henry Doss, who stayed with Sam and his family the entire winter and helped herd the cattle. Sam B. named the place Badgerville because of the prevalence of badgers, and it was known by this name for years until a post office was established. It was then given the name Hope and soon became a prosperous town.

During their travels they saw an iron foundry in the town of Socora and viewed the process of melting and separating iron from the rock and forming the iron into commercial slabs. They also saw pure fine melted gold flowing out of one place and silver at another. The process is mysterious.

They also observed a phenomenon caused by an ancient earthquake. Melted lava had rolled down over a practically level plane. Its contents had cooled, leaving a black rugged surface of rock. This structure covered a territory seventy five miles long and two to four miles wide.

They also visited White Oaks, a gold mining town where 450 laborers were employed. White Oaks is now a ghost town.

The winter of 1888-89 spent at Badgerville at the foot-hills of the beautiful Alamagorda mountains was a gloomy and disappointing period in Sam and Delilah's lives. There was no social life, no school or church, just a few settlers with the nearest post office or store at Seven Rivers, near the Pecos River seventy miles away. Of the few settler, it was soon learned that most of them were renegades from justice. Billy the Kid had just been slain after several years’ reign of terror. Cattle rustlers were everywhere and Sam found himself in a very unsatisfactory atmosphere, but there he was and his cattle were scattered over the range and winter was at hand. Sam and his son traveled many miles through the winter looking for a desirable ranch location, but with no success. All the desirable places were already occupied and nothing but desert land was available. During the winter, Mr. Roberson killed a wagon load of black tailed deer, hauled them to El Paso, 125 miles, and sold them for enough money to buy groceries for his family for the winter. This was sport and business combined, but a matter of history now.

In the spring of 1889 Bill Roberson rigged up a saw mill and located it in a small pine forest at the foot of the Alamagorda Mountains.  Roberson sawed quite a lot of pine lumber.

The town site at Roswell had been laid out but no buildings had been erected. The writer's father, Sam W. Bishop, loaded a heavy wagon with the lumber and with two yoke of oxen hauled it to the town site of Roswell. That was in the spring of 1889 - the first lumber laid down on the town site.

In the spring Sam B. joined in the big roundup which lasted a month and covered a territory for a hundred miles around. Not more than sixty per cent of their herd turned loose in November was accounted for after the roundup. With more than a third of the herd gone and unable to find a ranch location, Sam was again in a desperate state of mind. He found no prospect of establishing a home, yet in the face of all this, he accepted as a gift, a preemption of 160 acres farther west, situated in a narrow canyon high up on the mountain side. During the long winter months my brother, S.B. Bishop, entertained himself by writing a short novel. In this document, he depicted the characters of all his nearest neighbors in which he used fictitious names.

One man who had been described as a very bad and dangerous fellow recognized himself. He declared vengeance on my brother, telling neighbors he was going to kill Bud Bishop the first time he met him. One day Bud was out riding the range. While he was gone a friend came to the camp and asked Sam: “Where is Bud?” Sam informed him.  The friend said: “I have just met Mr. X - who was armed with a Winchester and six shooter, and said he was hunting Bud Bishop - that he was going to kill Bud.” Sam immediately saddled his horse, lashed a Winchester to his saddle, then called to Henry Doss, the hired man. “Henry, if anything happens to me take care of Delilah.  I am going to hunt Mr. X and if I find him, he or I one will get killed.” So off Sam rode in search of the man who had threatened the life of his son. 

Several hours later Sam returned. Bud had also returned. Sam had failed to find his man. This gave only temporary mental relief. Fear that the potential murderer might make good his threats still lingered in the mind of the Bishops.  Roundup time had come. Everyone who had an interest in cattle on the range must be represented or no calves would be branded for him. That threw the two belligerents together.

Bud armed himself with a dirk knife secreted in the waist of his pants. The next morning after first night camping together, Mr. X started for his horse hobbled nearby. Bud’s horse was near also. Bud followed Mr. X, who had a six shooter fastened to his belt. When Bud came near Mr. X he got very close to him, then said: “Mr. X you have been threatening to kill me. Now is as good a time as you will get.” Mr. X said: “Why Bud, I have nothing against you. You and your father are the best friends I have.” That settled it. There was nothing more Bud could do. Bud told me later that it was his intention to cut Mr. X to pieces before he could draw his gun.

About this time, the writer, James J., had finished teaching a school term in Bell county and found it an opportune time to visit his parents and also see some of the West. This was in May, 1889.

After a long and circuitous route, traveling by train nine hundred miles, by stage for one hundred twenty five miles, and then by horse wagon a hundred miles, he appeared at his father's camp. Sam was just ready to move to his newly acquired place.

About the second day after arriving at the camp, everything was made ready and the family started for their new home. They soon found themselves going up a narrow canyon with mountains high on either side, and pine trees towering eighty feet in the air. Occasionally they would pass a “nester” who would stand in the door of his log hut, gun in hand, looking tough and grizzly and not speaking a word.

These people seemed to resent the coming of strangers into their haunt. The farther we went, the more dismal it grew, until at last the cattle and the wagons were halted and Sam announced: “This is the place - their future home.”

It was late in the afternoon and everyone was tired and hungry from the long hard days travel. Camp was pitched, the horses and the oxen were hobbled so they could eat grass but not stray away. Supper was prepared on the camp fire and everyone ate ravenously of the hot biscuits, fried eggs and bacon. Not much conversation took place. It was apparent without saying a word that everyone at the camp felt depressed and disappointed over the prospects of this place for a home. In this depress-ed state of mind, they all retired for the night.

All night long the wind whistled through the tall thick pine trees.  Owls hooted from many tree tops. On the summit of the mountain above wolves would howl occasionally, and in the distance the mournful scream of a panther could be heard.

The writer spent the most weird, desolate and miserable night of his life there. Painful thoughts passed rapidly through his brain which drove away all prospects of sleep.

The next morning all were up early doing the chores, taking care of the stock and preparing breakfast, but an absence of conversation still was evidenced around the camp.

When breakfast was finished and before anyone had left the eating place, the writer broke the silence with the following utterance and firm command: “Bud, that what I called my brother,  I know that you would not be willing to spend your life here in this God-forsaken place among thieves, renegades from justice, with no schools or churches, seventy five miles from a store or a post office. I would not live here myself and I will never agree for my father and mother, now old, to attempt to live here alone. Henry, saddle a horse round up the cattle and start them back the way we came yesterday. Bud, help yoke the oxen and get the ox wagons rolling east. I’ll help Mother put away the things and get the horse wagon moving right away.”

Not an objection was raised to these commands, but without comment, orders were promptly and agreeably carried out. Before the sun went down they were back where they started the day before. The question uppermost in everyone's mind now was: “What shall we do?” James J. remarked that he didn't know what they would do nor where they would stop, but he did know that they would travel east until civilization was reached.

A deal was made with Mr. Roberson whereby he would care for the cattle for a share of the increase. The next day the cattle were branded and turned over to him to handle on the shares.

May 28th, we could not stand the rascals and no other kind of human beings could be found there. A market for produce was 150 miles away, a post office seventy miles. The canyon was very narrow (about 75 yards). Pine trees one hundred feet high, and mountains three fan four hundred feet high, nearly perpendicular, snow banks up here in winter to the depth of ten feet and stays on the ground from six to eight months. Taking all these disadvantages into consideration, we decided not to locate there.

On the morning of May 28th, 1889 we headed east for some unknown point in civilization to start life anew. The outfit consisted of a heavily loaded wagon drawn by two yoke of oxen with Sam the driver; a light two horse wagon containing the camping equipment with Delilah and the writer taking it time about to drive. S. B. (Bud) and Henry Doss, the hired hand, rode horseback.

It is 500 miles from the starting point to San Angelo, Texas. We were thirty days spanning that distance making all possible speed. Sam was so worried with that slow poking ox teams making three miles per hour that he could hardly take it. He would ride a while, then walk beside the wagon. He walked at least half of the 500 miles to San Angelo.

We traveled fifty miles and looked back to see the White Mountains covered with snow in May. At seventy miles we came to Seven Rivers, the trading center for one hundred miles west. Seven Rivers has long since been a ghost town.

We crossed the Pecos River ten miles above the present city of Carlsbad.  Nothing there at the time. Leaving the river at Carlsbad we drove east thirty miles to Eddy's horse ranch for the first water after leaving the Pecos.

We left the river one morning about 10 a.m. Late in the afternoon a large herd of antelope was sighted. Henry Doss gave me his horse and the Winchester and told me to kill one. I was thrilled for I had never seen an antelope before. I killed a buck and drug him into camp after dark. From that day I supplied the company with hams of antelope until we were near San Angelo.

Late one afternoon when we were about half way across the plains a heavy rain fell. We camped that night on an elevated knoll. A cool norther blew in so Bud, Henry and I slept in the tent on a pallet with all the curtains staked down.

In the morning after a night's quiet rest we discovered a lion's track.  The lion had come within three feet of our heads, smelled of us and walked away. There were his huge tracks in the mud.

Two or three days later we camped near Garden City, a county seat of an unorganized county. We remained there two nights and a day.  During the day our stock rested and filled themselves with water and delicious grass. We washed our dirty clothes and replenished our stock of antelope hams. We killed and dressed six or seven.

Two days later we drove into San Angelo. Except Seven River, San Angelo was the only place in our 500 mile journey where we had met a human being with whom we could converse. The chief topic of conversation in San Angelo was concerning the newly organized Coke County and its rapidly growing new county seat - Hayrick.

From the reports we received, it appeared that there were splendid opportunities to acquire a home in Hayrick or in the surrounding country for ranching or farming. So Sam decided to go to Hayrick and investigate conditions first hand. We drove on to Ballinger, forty miles farther east, and camped on the bank of the Colorado River.

Early in the morning of June 27th, 1889, Sam and his two sons mounted horses and headed for Hayrick, thirty five miles distant. We arrived at two p.m. - spied a restaurant where we satisfied our hunger with food. Then Sam went to the courthouse to interrogate the county clerk about school land.

In order that the reader may understand what is meant by “school land,” I will give you a brief history about it.

In the early 1870’s the legislature of Texas enacted a law requiring all public domain of the state to be surveyed and laid out in sections (640 acres). That embraced all west Texas - more than half the area of the state. After that was accomplished the legislature enacted a law to give railroads sixteen sections of land for each mile of railroad they would build in the state. They were to be given alternate sections and the other sections were to be set aside for public schools.  That was called “ school land” and could be acquired by settlers on easy terms. The terms were $1.00 to $2.00 per acre, forty years to pay, 1/40th cash, balance to bear 3% interest. The purchaser must occupy the land three years before title would be given.

The clerk was very reluctant to give information. It was rumored later that the clerk was demanding a bonus of $100.00 on each section before he would identify its location.

Sam was greatly disappointed but soon traded his team and wagon for a small house in town. Sam obtained a star route mail contract to carry the mail from Hayrick to Sanco, twice a week, a distance of twenty miles. A short time later he was appointed Justice of the Peace.  He now felt secure with a small home and two jobs.
 

Sam Builds a Reputation as Judge in J. P. Court

There was quite a lot of business in his court for Sam was the only J. P. in the county. He soon built a reputation for rendering fair and impartial judgments which greatly augmented his business.

Coke County was organized in the spring if 1889 and the county seat located at Hayrick, about eight miles from the Colorado River. Within a year agitation began to move the county seat to a place on the Colorado River and nearer the center of the county. The year 1890 was general election year and moving the county seat became the campaign issue for the election of a county judge.

The town by this time consisted of about sixty five resident houses, a court house constructed of lumber, a hotel and a school house. There were also six or eight business houses with stocks of goods.

There was a heated campaign for County Judge in which three candidates participated. G. W. Perriman, the incumbent, was in the race for re-election.  He favored no removal of the county seat. Mr. Adams favored removal, and a third candidate, Judge Mc Carty was neutral, merely claiming that he was best qualified for the office. Mr. Adams was elected and took office on Jan. 1st, 1891.

An election for removal was ordered immediately. Another heated campaign ensued, resulting in favor of the move. In January 1891 the newly elected county judge was sworn in and immediately ordered the removal election to be held in early March of 1891. The location of the new town was Robert Lee on the north bank of the Colorado River. Sam suggested the name which met the approval of the locating committee.

Sam was the only Justice of the Peace in the newly organized county of Coke, situated at Hayrick, the county seat, consequently much of the litigation was filed and tried in his court.

In order that my readers may observe the fairness of his judgments, I cite a few interesting cases. While the campaign for removal of the county seat was in progress the court house burned to the ground, destroying all county records.  Public opinion was freely expressed as to who set fire to the building.  There was a strong sentiment that the county clerk had done it to destroy documentary evidence that might incriminate him.

The charges became so prevalent that the district attorney called for a legal inquiry into the matter which was conducted in the Justice of the Peace court. The inquiry lasted two days. Many witnesses were brought before the court and rigidly grilled by the district attorney, searching for convicting evidence.

Sam dismissed the case with the verdict - “Insufficient evidence to warrant further procedure.”

Eugene Cartledge was attorney for the L. B. Harris Land and Cattle Co. and a partner in the huge ranch in Coke County. Cartledge filed twenty suits at the same time in Sam’s Justice Court charging “Forcible Entry and Detamor.” These men had squatted on sections of land in the Harris ranch, laid claim to the land and could not be persuaded to vacate.

When the cases were tried judgment was rendered in favor of the plaintiff in each case. Each defendant gave notice of appeal to a higher court.  Not one of them could make the required appeal bond, so the Justice's judgments were final.

A man stood in his store door across the street from the public square and shot a prairie dog on the square. He was charged with unlawfully shooting on a public street, road or highway. The court found the defendant guilty. Defendant appealed to the County Court.

In the County Court the defense lawyer pointed out the defendant did not shoot on the street but shot across the street. He was therefore not guilty as charged in the indictment. On that technicality the judgment of the lower court was reversed and the defendant went free. 

The defendant's attorney taunted Sam because his judgment had been reversed. Sam retorted: “I rendered justice. You rendered the law.”

One other apparently simple case was filed in Sam’s Justice Court which proved disastrous and expensive. It was finally settled in the U. S. Federal Court at El Paso. Following is an outline of the case: Mr. “A” traded Mr. “B” a herd of sheep for a Jack.  In a short time Mr. “A” told Mr. “B” that he had misrepresented the animal and demanded a retraction of the trade. Mr. “B” refused. Then Mr.  “A” took the animal to the home of Mr.  “B” and tied it there, Mr. “B” paid no attention to the animal and it died of starvation. Then Mr. “A” filed suit in justice court against Mr. “B” for retraction of the trade and return of the sheep.

Sam rendered a verdict in favor or Mr. “A”, the plaintiff.  Mr.  “B” appealed to the County Court where judgment of lower court was affirmed. Then Mr. “B” appealed to the District Court where the judgment was again affirmed. Then Mr. “B” appealed to the U. S. Federal Court at El Paso.

The Federal Court reversed the judgment and charged all costs to Mr. “A”. Mr. “A”’s property was levied on by execution and sold to pay the costs. Mr. “A” was flat broke and left the county in a two horse wagon with all his earthly possessions.

Moral - steer clear of the courts. They may break you even if you win.

By the first of April nearly all of Hayrick’s houses had been moved to Robert Lee, leaving Hayrick a ghost town, even to this day. Sam moved with the crowd to Robert Lee.

During the two years of Hayrick’s existence Sam was a very active citizen. His court of justice was wielding a beneficial influence for honesty and obedience to law and the Golden Rule.

Continuation of My Journey Back to Bell County
Sam remained in Coke County three years. Drought, crop failures and a general depression throughout the section were discouraging. Many who had filed on sections of cheap school land were compelled to leave their land and hunt remuneration in a more prosperous part of the country. Their claims were forfeited back to the state.

Sam was no exception to this class. He took the back track and landed in good old Bell County, where he had lived for forty years before his move to the west. Sam regretted his financial loss in his try of the west, but did not let it get him down. There was at least one bright event to look back upon - Delilah had regained her health which was more important that all his financial losses. He and Delilah were comfortably situated in a house on their son's farm and all three of their children near them. It is now 1892 and both Sam and Delilah are sixty years of age.

In the 1890’s a third political party sprang up in the United States and soon achieved a surprising strength. It was called the Populist Party.

This new party fought both the Democratic and the Republican parties, claiming each was corrupt. They won quite a few important public positions.  The new party was especially strong in Texas, being led by the famous politician, Cyclone Davis. Cyclone Davis was a first cousin to Jefferson Davis who was president of the Confederacy.

Sam had always been a Democrat. He announced for county commissioner subject to the Democratic party. His opponent in the primary was James Blair, a very fine man, also a democrat. Sam won the nomination of the party. The Populist party nominated Mr. Tom Stinson who was also a high class gentleman. Mr. Stinson defeated Sam in the general election by a small margin of votes. Sam’s voting box was Sparta near where he established his mountain home just after the Civil War.

In this general election Sparta cast exactly 100 votes. Sam received 99 of them. An interesting sequence followed two years later when a man stepped up to Sam with his arms outstretched, threw them on Sam’s shoulders and with tears in his eyes, exclaimed: “Uncle Sam, I owe you an apology. I am the man that voted against you two years ago. I have been ashamed of it ever since. Just to think I was the only man to vote against you out of a hundred! It has grated on my conscience ever since. I beg you to forgive me.” This story represents the outstanding respect and confidence Sam’s neighbors who knew him best had for him.

In November 1899, Delilah departed this life and her spirit took its flight to an unknown world. She was sixty eight years of age and had been a devout member of the Methodist church from early childhood.  Her passing was a great shock to Sam and her children. They had lived together and shared one another’s pleasures and burdens congenially forty four years. Sam spent the balance of his life (twenty years) in the home of his youngest son, J. J. He made himself congenial. Every member of the family adored him.

Sam and Delilah each were blessed with a disposition of kindness and charity toward the poor, the sick and the unfortunate.

Delilah's sister, Nancy, became estranged from her mother. She applied to Sam for a home. The request was granted. She lived in Sam’s home as one of the family for months until she married.

Another sister of Delilah's was left a widow with a small child and penniless. Sam took them under his roof and cared for them as if they were his own for several years.

Another relative of Delilah's, Texana Clements, came to Sam’s to live and go to school. She was treated as a member of the family and remained in his home a year until she married.

One day while Sam and his two boys were hoeing in the field, two girls, twelve and fourteen years of age, rode up on one horse. The older one said: “Is this Uncle Sam Bishop?” The answer was: “Yes.” “We are your nieces, Uncle Sam. Our father died and in a few months our mother passed on also. We were living in Waco. We have no home - no place to go. We have come to see if we could live with you.” Of course they were not turned away. They lived in Sam’s home for two years, being treated kindly.

The foregoing are only a meager notation of Sam’s benevolence which was a part of his nature which he freely exhibited throughout his long life of eighty seven years. There were no orphan homes in those days to care for dependent children.

On April 24th, 1910, when Sam was seventy eight years of age and residing in Killeen, Texas, with his son, the family honored him with a dinner.  All his friends and acquaintances from far and near who were over sixty years of age were invited. One hundred elderly persons whose ages ranged from sixty to ninety six years greeted Sam at the home of his son J. J. Bishop.

These old people spent the entire day reminiscing and feasting on the fine dinner that was prepared for them. The meal consisted of boiled ham, chicken with dumplings, cake, pies, coffee, milk, etc.
Elder Stephen Collier was There

Among those present were Elder Stephen Collier, ninety two years of age. Rev. Collier had been president of a female college in Ohio before the Civil War. The Federal army over ran the country and took possession of his college building. He was never reimbursed by the government.  His valuable property was a total loss to him. Rev. Collier had preached the Christian faith for seventy five years. He had traveled with Alexander Campbell during Campbell’s crusade for Christ in the United States.  Collier was an educated man and an oratorical and forceful speaker.

Dr. H. K. Harrison was There
Dr. Harrison was not only a medical doctor and a surgeon, but also a minister of the gospel, preaching the Christian faith. In his late years he served in the Texas Senate with distinction.

Adam C. Clements was There
Adam Clements was a brother to the writer's mother. Clements was severely wounded at the battle of Jenkin’s Ferry in La. during the Civil War.  A thigh bone was shattered near the hip joint. He was left for dead on the battle field, but later picked up by litter bearers and placed in an improvised hospital. A surgeon examined him and stated that the limb must be amputated. Clements remonstrated against the amputation.  The surgeon paid no attention to his protest and in a few minutes returned with a nurse and an assistant to remove the leg. Clements became furious. He grabbed his dirk knife from under his pillow and told the surgeon he would kill the first man that touched him. The surgeon said: “Then you will die.” Clements retorted: “I’ll die with my leg on my body!” The surgeon left him to his fate.

Three days later this same Dr. Harrison, above mentioned, (who was also a young surgeon) came along examining patients, and discovered Clements lying almost at death's door. Harrison remarked: “Here is a man who has been neglected.” He examined the wound, extracted the bullet and fragments of bone, brought the two ends together, then dressed and bandaged the limb. Dr.  Harrison attended the patient daily until he was convalescent.

The war was over in a few months. One year later, after Clements had been mourned for dead by his relatives, he came riding up to his father's home on a poor horse that had been given to him. He was carrying a crutch before him on the saddle. Shouting with joy, mingled with emotional tears, prevailed on that occasion. The dead had come to life.

Dr. Harrison and Adam Clements met at Sam’s dinner in 1910 for the first time after that memorable event of dressing the broken leg.  It had been forty five years.

When these two old soldiers met and embraced each other they were so overcome with emotion that neither could speak for minutes. There was scarcely a dry eye among the audience. When Adam recovered sufficiently to speak he said, “Dr. Harrison, you saved my life and my limb.”

Tom Yarrell was There
Mr. Yarrell was a pioneer country merchant in the eastern part of Bell County. When the Santa Fe Railroad came to the county he moved his stock of goods to Belton and continued his mercantile- grocery business. He prospered, his business grew until finally a jobbing or wholesale business was established with country stores surrounding Belton. Later he established and became president of a bank in Belton.

Mr. Yarrell lived to be ninety one years of age. During his long business career as merchant and banker there was never a complaint of dishonesty nor a charge that he had cheated or mistreated any man. What a legacy to leave to his descendants and to future generations. His son, Slade, succeeded his father as president of the bank. It continues to this day a reputable and prosperous institution.

George W. Tyler was There
Sam was a day laborer for George Tyler's father at Ft. Gates when George was born in 1850. They both soon became residents of Bell County and were intimate friends as long as they both lived.
George was educated at Salado College, an institution his father, O. T. Tyler, was instrumental in founding and promoting. After graduation from Salado College he entered an eastern college, where he graduated in law. He established a law office in Belton in it's pioneer days long before Bell County had a railroad. He acquired a lucrative practice and maintained it until his death.

He served Bell and two other counties with distinction as State Senator.  He was elected grand master of the Masonic Lodge of Texas. In his last days he wrote a history of Bell County. It has been pronounced the best county history of any in Texas: the most accurate and the most detailed of any. No reproach of his good character has ever been uttered.

Spencer Young was There
Spencer Young was a native of Arkansas. At the outbreak of the Civil War he enlisted in the Confederate army and served four years in the “Lost Cause.”

He was severely wounded three times - once at the battle of Gettysburg.  After the war, he returned to his native state, married and came to Texas in the early 1870’s. Like most Confederate soldiers, he was left penniless when the war ended. He settled at the small country town of Troy, a few miles north of the present city of Temple in Bell County. He and his wife started life from scratch. He managed for a few sheep and grazed them on the open free range. Being energetic and attentive to his flock, he prospered.

In the late 1870’s he moved to the Nolan Valley, three miles east of the present city of Killeen. He leased grazing land increased the number of his flock and continued to prosper. He purchased cheap land and added farming to his sheep business.

In 1882, the Santa Fe Railroad was extended west and established the town of Killeen. Mr. Young became an early resident of the town and gradually reduced his flock, but increased his farm activities.
In about 1886, Spencer Young was elected county commissioner for the Killeen precinct of Bell County. He was very progressive and took the lead of the court in new accomplishments. Under his leadership steel bridges were built across the Cowhouse, the Leon, the Lampasas and Little Rivers. Public roads in the entire county were improved which aided farmers in marketing crops and stimulated commerce.

After serving about three terms as county commissioner, he was elected to the legislature of Texas. There he pursued the same progressive course as in private and public business. His constituents were immensely pleased with his public service.

Mr. Young was a devout member of the Christian church, and was instrumental in promoting a church building, also the organization at Killeen.  Mr. and Mrs. Young reared four children; two sons and two daughters. They each inherited the honesty and integrity of their parents.

A. J. Hoover was There
Uncle Jack Hoover came to Killeen in 1889 and soon became a prominent ranch man and farmer. His wife was a sister to Dr. Bill Atkinson, whose son, Killeen Atkinson, was the first child born in Killeen. The Hoovers reared four children, three daughters and a son. The oldest daughter, Emma, married I. W. Culp, a lawyer and a state legislator. Their daughter, Mrs. Oveta Culp Hobby, is now a cabinet member of Pres. Eisenhower.  The second Hoover girl, Sallie, married John Norman, a member of a prominent Killeen family. The son, John, became a prominent ranch man.

Uncle Jack was vice president of the First National Bank of Killeen, served as city commissioner and as school trustee. He was noted for honesty and economy in business.

Pink Denman and Bascom Davis Were There
These two prominent men were pioneers of Bell County. Each resided on his farm in the Cowhouse Valley. Each had served as county commissioner in the same precinct. Each of them was an outstanding progressive citizen.

James R. Sutton and Ambrose Lee Were There
Uncle Jimmie Sutton and Sam first met in Bell County in 1849. They were neighbors and friends for seventy years. Ambrose Lee was a pioneer settler near Sugar Loaf in Coryell County. These two men were in the posse that chased the Indians that murdered the Riggs family near Sugar Loaf in 1859, and rescued the two small Riggs girls.

W. W. Upshaw Was There
Mr. Upshaw was a pioneer of Bell County. He lost a leg during the Civil War, and for forty years after the war was over, he served the citizens of Bell County as County Clerk and County Treasurer.
On one occasion a citizen of Bell County, Mr. Whalen, walked into the clerk's office on business. Mr. Upshaw looked at him a moment then asked: “Were you a soldier in the Federal army?” Mr.  Whalen answered in the affirmative. “Were you at the battle of Gettysburg?” Answer “Yes Sir.” “Then you are the man that shot my leg off. I always thought I would recognize that man if I ever met him.” The two men conversed freely on the occasion and parted holding no animosity against each other.

Uncle Dick Cole was There with his Mother in Law Grandma Maples
Uncle Dick was looked upon as the founder of Killeen, and a leader in public affairs of the young city. He lived to be ninety four years of age and was active to the last. Grandma Maples was a pioneer of Coryell County. She was ninety six years of age at the time of the dinner.

Grandma Nancy Bone was There
Grandma Nancy Clements Bone was a pioneer settler on Taylor's Branch near Sparta in 1859. She was eighty years of age at the time. Three of her daughters and a son were present as follows:
Mrs. Rena Clements Elms - affectionately known as “Aunt Rena.” She lived ninety four years to display her charitable deeds and kind works among men.

Aunt Becca Clements Hallmark - in spite of adversity, lived ninety three years. As a leader in vocal music she cheered many a soul with her charming voice. She taught vocal music and continued her cheerful singing far into old age.

Aunt Ellen Clements Davis - lived ninety four years in the county in which she was born. Hers was a modest life and adorned with exemplary habits and the affection of all who knew her.

Jessie Clements - was a long time merchant and banker of Copperas Cove. Through many a year of depression and crop failures he fed the poor and needy for miles around him. This charity had no bounds.

Don Tankersly was There
Don Tankersly was a universally loved citizen of Killeen. He pioneered in the county before the railroad came and moved to Killeen soon after the town was put on the map. He was postmaster of Killeen under Pres.  Woodrow Wilson's administration. Mrs. Tankersly was a person much admired by all who knew her.

Mrs. Emma Blair was There
Mrs. Emma Blair was the widow of Joel Blair. They settled in the Killeen territory long before Killeen was born. They reared a large family of boys and one girl. Their oldest son, James, was the first chief of police for the city. He later served as deputy sheriff many years.  Their son, John, was shot to death in line of duty as chief of police of Killeen. Another son, Fred, was also chief of police many years.

Mrs. McCorcle was There
Mrs. McCorcle and her husband, Dr. McCorcle were among the first residents of Killeen, having resided at Sugar Loaf many years before the Santa Fe Railroad mapped out the town.

They reared five children - three sons and two daughters. The oldest son, Jinks D. McCorcle, left Killeen when a young man and settled in Oklahoma. The second son, Mack McCorcle, grew to manhood in Killeen.  He was elected mayor of the city and served the citizens with honor and ability. He later served Bell County as deputy sheriff. The third son, Port McCorcle, became a printer and was associated with the Killeen Herald in various capacities for forty years. Vinnie McCorcle married R. F. George, a member of a well known Bell County family. Hettie McCorcle, the youngest child, married H. A. Fife, a respected citizen of Killeen.

Space will not permit me to mention the names of others who attended Sam’s famous seventy eighth birthday dinner. Suffice to say that the few above mentioned are a fair representation of the many who were there.

Soon after the occasion of Sam’s dinner, the Killeen Herald gave a sensational write-up of the affair. Following are some excerpts from the paper printed in the summer of 1910.

 “The greatest legacy that can be left a people is the legacy of noble ancestry: The nobility and patriotism of the early settlers of Texas has contributed more to the State's greatness and glory than all else combined. The men who came to Texas in advance of the railroads or any other civilizing influence, and braved the hardships, privation and dangers incident to life in a frontier country in order to forge the way for Christian civilization reared a monument to their memory more enduring than marble.

 “These grand old pioneers are passing away; but a few more years and the last of them will have taken their silent abodes in the chambers of death. Then what a privilege it should be to us of a younger generation, when the opportunity is offered to cheer and comfort those grand old heroes and heroines that are still spared to us.

 “Such an opportunity was offered to the people of Killeen on the 24th of last April, 1910, when a large number of pioneer men and women assembled at the home of our fellow townsman, Mr. J. J. Bishop in response to an invitation by him to be present at the 78th birthday anniversary of his father, Uncle Sam Bishop.

“No blare of triumph or loud acclaim announced the coming of these grand men and women. When the heart is full silence sometimes becomes eloquent. The warm hand clasp and love lit eyes that welcomed these grand old pioneers to Killeen on that memorable occasion was a greeting more fitting than beating drums and screaming fife. The greatest homage that can be paid mortal man is the heart homage of his countrymen. We owe these men and women a debt of gratitude, not alone for driving back the savage Indian and making way for Christian civilization, but for the heritage of noble manhood they have bequeathed to the state.

“In that assemblage were men who had spent the larger part of their lives on the frontiers of Texas combating the lawless elements that always existed on the outskirts of civilization.  In the discharge of their conscious duty to home and country they sometimes had to make their own laws and then perform the double function of judge and jury in their execution. Texas in early days suffered more from the renegade criminal from the older states than she did from the Indian depredations, and it required men of iron nerve and unyielding principles of right to cope with these conditions.

“The frontier was no place for the faint hearted or timid, in fact he could not have existed there. So it goes without saying in that assemblage of pioneers that gathered at the home of J. J. Bishop on the 24th of last April, not a one of them - man or woman had one jot or tittle of cowardly blood coursing their veins.  But the hardships and rugged life of the frontier in no way destroyed their high ideals of Christian citizenship.

“There was no place so inhospitable in the early days of Texas but where was to be found a minister of the gospel.  Of all the pioneers that have made glorious the pages of Texas history none have given it a more resplendent glory than these old ministers of God. The call to preach His word did not lead him to the church house with the sky reaching steeple where assembled the fashionable audience, but it called him out into the wilds where men had not yet heard that glad, glad story of ‘Peace on Earth and good will to men’ that was heralded to the sleeping Shepherd's on Judean hills by angels nearly two thousand years ago. When he accepted the call he accepted the dangers and hardships that it involved. He asked no greater earthly reward than the sweet consciousness that comes of having done his Master's work.

“It may have been the vast solitudes, the trackless wastes with no boundary lines save where earth and skyline met, that gave the Texas pioneer his breadth of soul and grandeur of character.  He lived close to nature and to God and his very being expanded and harmonized with its surroundings.

“We wish it were possible that we could give here a short biographical sketch of each and everyone composing that dinner party of Texas pioneers. We do so wish that all of our readers could have seen that gathering of noble men and women.

“So successful was Mr. J. J. Bishop in assembling these grand old history makers of Texas at his home last April that he intends to perpetuate it on each succeeding birthday anniversary of his father. May Uncle Sam Bishop's birthdays be many yet to come and may all those who came to add cheer to his 78th birthday be spared to meet with him on many, many more like occasions.

Below is the address of J. J. Bishop to his father's guests.

After dinner the party assembled together for the purpose of having a few short speeches by the guests. J. J. Bishop introduced this feature by a few brief and fitting remarks.  He said:

My friends, it is indeed a pleasure to have so many of the old friends and acquaintances of my father assembled together at my home.

Birthday and tea parties for the children are an every day occurrence, and sociables and entertainment for the pleasure of the young people is a very common thing, but an entertainment especially for the old is a rare occurrence. It is all right to what we can for the pleasure and happiness of young people, but I believe we can do more than we do to add to the joys and comforts, the pleasures and contentment of the old.

You, having lived longer than we, have necessarily had many experiences in life that we know nothing of. Many of you are pioneer settlers of Texas. You have lived in log houses with a puncheon floor and a mud and stick chimney. You have raised your families here without the advantages of church or school. You have fought the Indians away from the settlements, cleared up the forests and plowed up the land while we young people of today are the recipients of your privations and toil. And while you had many adversities and trials incident to the settlement of a new country, yet you had many pleasures and thrilling experiences which we have never had and can never have.  You have chased and slain the wild buffalo, an animal that is now extinct. You have chased and roped and ridden the mustang pony and he too is extinct. You have ridden the broad prairies in search of cattle and wild game, thus combining business and pleasure. All these thrilling experiences and pleasures of your early lives we know nothing of and can never enjoy. So I conclude that life was as sweet to you then with your surroundings as it is to us today with all the modern inventions and civilization surrounding us.

I am proud to have you with us today and I hope you may all live to enjoy many more such occasions.

My friends: All that I see, all that I hear, all that I feel here in the presence of the folks at home awakens within me sleeping memories of the other days. If we were to travel the world over in search of the good and the pure we would find no better or more inspiring scene than this, the old folks at home.

In the long succession of homes from the first Edenic home of man in the garden up to the last log cabin in the woods, is the chain that binds and holds together the children of men and the most beautiful link in that long chain is this, the old folks at home.

We have read it in the sacred literature, seen it on the pages of human history, felt in tradition, heard in song and welcomed everywhere, the old folks at home. The historians of all ages have informed us that no greater calamity can befall a people than banishment from home, they likewise told us no greater blessing can come to a people than home, the stay and the joy of life here, the hope and the foretaste of the life to come.

And now, Grandpa Bishop, let me assure you on this your 78th birthday, I feel there are no vacant chairs here, but more for ought we know, there are a thousand seats in this house today, all filled, not one vacant and all rejoicing with you and your happy guests in this, the old folks at home.

An in conclusion, Grandpa, I would not say to you on this, a crowning glory of your seventy eight years, “Good bye.” I would not say to your friends who have come to meet and greet you, “Farewell,” but rather let me say: “May we meet again, the old folks at home.”

Several guests made short talks and it is very much regretted that a stenographic copy was not retained of same. Among those making talks for the occasion were Judge George Tyler of Belton, one of the ablest lawyers in Texas, who bears the distinction of being the first white child born in Coryell County; R. M. Cole, whose remarks were delivered in such feeling way that when he closed there was not a dry eye in the audience; and that of that grand old minister of God, Elder S. Collier, aged 92, who was a friend and co-worker of Alexander Campbell.  Notwithstanding his extreme age, his mind is clear and strong and his speech thrilled that throng of eager listeners as men and women are rarely ever thrilled. His articulation and manner of expression showed signs of education and ability.

There were present on this occasion:
One Lawyer 
One State Representative
Two Preachers 
Two State Senators 
Three Bankers 
Four County Officials
Two Indian Fighters

Sam spent eighteen years at Killeen in the home of his son, J. J.  Bishop.  He entertained himself by associating daily with congenial friends of the town. He spent at least two hours each day reading newspapers and keeping posted on local, state, national and world events. He was a student of the activities of World War One.

He performed daily chores about the home such as cutting stove wood and supplying fuel for the chimney. He assisted in feeding and milking cows and many other chores incident to the home. He played with the children in the vicinity so all who knew him were his friend regardless of age. They called him “Uncle Sam.”
Early in the year 1918 Sam moved to the Rio Grande Valley with his son and family. The family settled in Brownsville near Ft. Brown, where Sam had climbed the flag-pole and attached the Confederate flag fifty-four years before while serving in the Confederate army.

For the next few months he interested himself by reviewing his activities around Brownsville during the last year of the Civil War, including the last battle fought near Brownsville, which occurred in May 1865 thirty days after peace had been declared. There was no telegraph then to transmit the news.

World War One was then at its height of destruction of men and property.  Our entire nation was on tip-toe of excitement and fear that its very existence was in peril. Sam grabbed a paper daily and scanned it for hope of success of our armies, and a relaxation from nervous tension of our people. Finally on Nov. 8th, 1918 the glad tidings rang out that hostilities had ceased and an Armistice was signed.

Immediately after the signing of the armistice, a question became rife throughout the country - “What should be done with the Kaiser?” Many thought he should be executed. Some thought life imprisonment would pay the penalty. Sam answered the question in a letter to the public as follows:
 

The Letter - Last Letter Sam Wrote

Brownsville, Texas
Dec. 14th, 1918

I am just rounding out my 87th year in this good old Democratic World.

Have had the honor of serving my country as Justice of the Peace for several years and in this capacity am called on to try the Kaiser. I have before me as witnesses The Houston Chronicle, The Temple Telegram, The Ferguson Forum, The Killeen Herald and other sidelights. They all agree on your guilt.

Now, stand up Billy Kaiser and receive your sentence!

I will confiscate all your money and other belongings.  Will place it as a pension fund. I will pay this out to armless boys and injured girls and women of France and Belgium. I will send you to France; place you under crippled French soldiers who have one good right arm and two good legs left. I will put you to work pulling down and rolling up the barbed wire entanglements you stretched all over that country. You may also fill up dug-outs and ditches and make mortar and carry bricks to rebuild the houses you have torn down.

This, you must do the remainder of your life. At night you shall have a fifty pound ball and chain locked around your leg and be placed in a strong cell. You shall have plenty to eat and wear that you may live a long time to serve France.

Sam W. Bishop 
Brownsville, Texas.

That was the last letter Sam ever wrote. He soon became afflicted with a heart ailment from which he succumbed on September 13, 1919, at the age of 87 years.

Thus passed a noble character to his reward. He had braved the hardships of a pioneer life, constantly striving by word and deed to elevate the morals of his country.

He strove to make Texans a law abiding people and to make Texas a better place in which to live.

He was a Master Mason and a charter member of the first two lodges of Bell County, Texas.